The Mirror of Erised
by Jewel Little Bird
Summary: What Snape would see if he looked into the Mirror of Erised, then had a change of heart. [rating for language and certain situations in later chapters]**COMPLETE**
1. Chapter One

The Mirror of Erised Chapter One By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Severus Snape stalked down the halls, his cape billowing behind him like a black flag of doom. The new school year would begin the next day with the arrival of the students, and he was trying very hard not to think about another year facing that goddamned Potter. Honest to God, he wanted to kill that boy....  
  
He passed by an open classroom door, and glanced at it only momentarily. He froze a few feet away from it, then slowly turned around, walked back, and opened the door. For a moment, he could only stare. Inside the classroom, right near the window, was a huge, full-length mirror.  
  
It had been four, going on five, years since he had seen the Mirror of Erised, and truth be told, he was scared of it. Dumbledore had not lied when he said that the mirror showed the deepest desires of anyone's heart. When Snape had first looked into it, he'd nearly had a heart attack.  
  
As he stared at the mirror (angled so that he couldn't see his reflection properly), he was vaguely aware of the battle going on in his mind. Part of him wanted to turn and run back to his office like crazy and never set foot near this room again, but a much stronger part wanted very badly to walk up to that mirror and look into it again. For what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than a few minutes, he just stood in the doorway, staring at the mirror. Then, almost unwillingly, he walked into the room, closed the door behind him, and looked properly into the mirror. He wasn't close enough, so, he stepped nearer until he was.  
  
It was just like the first time. There she was, standing just to his side, as beautiful as the last time he saw her. His heart was most certainly doing a fantastic feat of aerobics in his chest. Longingly, he placed his fingers against the mirror, right where her face was. She smiled and tilted her head, making it look as if she were pressing her cheek against his hand. His throat closed, wishing that she were here beside him. He had always loved her, he could never hate her, but he could hate the man she'd married instead....  
  
If she and her husband had lived, though, Snape knew that he would've tolerated the git... if only for her sake. If they had lived, Snape would've been content to leave them alone... if she only asked. They had not, though. Snape didn't care about her husband, but he cared for her, and he'd never forgive Voldemort for killing her. Never.  
  
Snape gazed at her reflection, taking in the details of her face, every hair, every dimple. He'd always wanted to be the one to hold her in his arms, run his fingers through her beautiful red hair, but as long as she had been happy, he was content. Her eyes looked cheerfully back into his, almost playfully, and he couldn't help but think that he missed those eyes, those beautiful green eyes....  
  
If only Harry had not gotten her eyes, it would've been so much easier to hate the boy. That he looked like his father from a distance helped very much, but every time Snape saw his eyes, he had to make them hateful, otherwise he'd see her eyes looking back into his. If Harry lived through what was coming, then Snape would gladly try never to see him again. If the boy did not live, though, then Snape did not want to have nightmares of the boy's eyes filled with terror as he died. He had nightmares enough of what she must have looked like when Voldemort killed her.  
  
Closing his eyes, Snape placed his forehead against the glass of the mirror (he didn't remember getting this close; how had that happened?); he wanted so much to just reach into the mirror and somehow pull her out, but magic could only do so much....  
  
"Lily," he whispered under his breath, longingly.  
  
Someone cleared his throat. Snape jumped and flipped around, realizing too late that there were tears running down his face. Dumbledore was at there, alone. Snape wiped his eyes as quickly as he could with his sleeve, hoping that they were not too red. It'd be embarrassing if he ran into one of the other teachers and they asked him what was wrong.  
  
Thankfully, Dumbledore did not make any remarks about the tears. He said, instead, "Go back to the dungeons, Severus. The students will be arriving tomorrow, and I'm sure you'll want to get your things ready."  
  
Snape nodded, and quickly left the room, ready to run once he was out of Dumbledore's sight. He paused long enough to turn and as the Headmaster, "Why is the mirror there?"  
  
"I had to temporarily move it so that it wouldn't distract the house- elves as they cleaned. It will not be here tomorrow."  
  
Snape continued down the hall, and the second he turned the corner, he fled. He would always hate James, he would always hate Harry, but he loathed Voldemort, and would never forgive him for what he did.  
  
He'd never forgive Voldemort for killing Lily.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter One 


	2. Chapter Two

Ironically, I never meant to write more to this. The first chapter is something that had been running around in my brain for about six months before I wrote it down. It was meant to be a one chapter story that was left at that, with an open ending. Nothing meant to follow.  
  
I should've known myself better.  
  
One of my favorite pastimes is reading, and I've been re-reading all the Harry Potter books, mostly to see if there is anything I'm going to need to remember when I finally get my hands on a copy of that long-awaited Order of the Phoenix book.  
  
Being part of a group that believes Snape had a crush on Harry's mother, I'm also part of a group that thinks Fleur De'Lacour is going to pop up in #5. It was when I was finishing the fourth book that one of her lines really popped out at me ("I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my Eenglish"). If she's going to be working at the castle, there's a chance that she'd come across that stupid mirror, right? Be kind of curious to see what she sees in the mirror. Also, last time I checked, there's only one job open: the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, and from what J. K. Rowling has said, the new teacher is a woman. Fleur certainly fits the description.  
  
Then there's the little snag that Snape hates whoever gets the DADA job. Seems to me he's more likely to be smitten with Little-Miss-Veela.  
  
Honestly, I have absolutely no idea where this story is going. I don't even know how it's going to end, and I can tell you right now, that's a first for me. I'm always writing the end of a story before the beginning.  
  
So, let's see how this crazy idea of mine turns out, shall we?  
  
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Two By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur De'Lacour looked around her new room. The caretaker, Argus Filch, stood at the door, watching her like a hawk; his cat, Mrs. Norris, kept a close eye on her as well. Fleur had noticed at once that her veela powers had no affect on him; he had just barely managed to be polite while practically radiating the thought, "You better damn well like this room, otherwise you're sleeping outside."  
  
The room was nice enough, however. The walls were covered with deep blue tapestries trimmed in silver. A matching carpet adorned the floor. The fireplace was painted white and decorated with floral patterns carved into its sides. Heavy blue curtains trimmed with silver tassels were pulled to the side of each window. The bed was pushed right into the corner opposite the door. A wardrobe stood at the foot of the bed, pushed right up to the footboard. A night table resided next to the headboard end of the bed, making it look a little like a nest. The bed itself was queen- sized with three big pillows propped up against the headboard. A thick, dark blue comforter with stars embroidered on it in silver thread was pulled back just enough to reveal white bed sheets with blue snowflakes on it. Next to the door was a tall, full-length mirror with writing at the top: erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi.  
  
She blinked. This must be the mirror Headmaster Dumbledore told me about, she thought. I wonder what it does. He didn't tell me....  
  
"Well?" Filch snapped.  
  
She started. She'd forgotten he was there. Mrs. Norris looked around his ankle and meowed up at her. She looked Filch in the eye, smiled sweetly, turned on all her veela charm, and purred, "Ze room is just lovely, sir. I couldn't 'ave asked for bettair."  
  
She was right; he was completely immune to her power. He scowled, nodded, and left. Mrs. Norris glared at her before she followed her master.  
  
Fleur looked back at the mirror. She was at an angle with it and couldn't see her reflection properly. So, she moved until she could.  
  
She immediately wished she hadn't.  
  
Gabrielle was there, waving happily at her, right behind her reflection. So was their mother. Fleur had not seen them for two weeks, and already she missed them. "Mama?" she whispered, more shocked than anything else. "Gabrielle?"  
  
"I see you've wasted no time in examining the Mirror of Erised," a familiar voice said.  
  
She whirled, eyes wide. "'Eadmaster!" she said respectfully, bowing a bit as Dumbledore entered the room. "Zis is ze object you mentioned to me, oui?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes. I chose you to protect it since your vela ancestry makes you less susceptible to its affects." His eyes twinkled. "Do I need to tell you what it does, how have you figured it out?"  
  
She looked back in the mirror. Gabrielle and her mother grinned and waved. She shrugged; it was true that she missed her mother and sister, but the mirror seemed to her to be no more than a rather large photograph to her. "Desire of ze heart."  
  
He nodded again. "Yes. I would prefer that the mirror be guarded a bit more closely this time. Too many house-elves were being distracted by it where I had kept it previously. One by the name of Winky nearly went into hysterics."  
  
"I understand." She did, too. Veela were known for being heartless, and more than one jealous girl had called Fleur, whose grandmother was a veela, cold-hearted. She couldn't deny it; she had rarely desired anything in her life, and loved no one but her mother and sister. Her father, being half-veela, she did not like at all, just as he did not like her or Gabrielle; he only cared for their mother. She smiled at Dumbledore. "Eef you would like, I will keep it covaired at all times."  
  
"I would." He handed her a piece of paper. "Your schedule for the school year. Filch has told you the password to this room?"  
  
"Oui." Her mouth quirked in amusement; the password was "whore." She had a feeling it was a subtle hint from Filch. "I believe ze students will be arriving tonight?"  
  
"Yes. Oh, I almost forgot." He reached into his pocket and pulled out two envelopes. "These are for you. One is from Proffessor Lupin, who wishes to inform you on what the students learned under his tutelage. The second I wrote for you; it is everything I've managed to gather than Barty Crouch taught the students." His eyes flashed angrily at the name of the Death Eater. "You will need the information so that you can decide what to teach the students."  
  
"Zank you, 'eadmaster," she said politely, taking the envelopes. When he had left, she conjured a drape of thick cloth with her wand and covered the mirror without a second thought. She looked out the window, calculated that she had about four hours until the feast, then sat on her bed, opened the envelopes, and proceeded to read.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Two 


	3. Chapter Three

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Three By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Snape was furious.  
  
Yet again, he had failed to secure the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He knew Dumbledore's reasons why the job had never been given to him (and never would, according to the Headmaster), but that didn't mean he couldn't hope.  
  
Besides, it gave him someone else besides Harry Potter to vent his frustration on every year.  
  
He tapped his fingers impatiently against the table as the students gradually entered the Great Hall and sat at their House tables. His sneer got worse when he spotted Potter and his two friends, Granger and Weasley. At least from this distance, the boy looked exactly like James. Not too difficult to hate him, considering.  
  
He glanced up and down the table to see if the new teacher had made an appearance yet. To his annoyance, Dumbledore hadn't told him who the new teacher was. All Snape knew was that the teacher was a "she". So far, he only spotted people he knew. Hagrid wasn't there, obviously, and neither was McGonagall; the former was taking the new first years across the lake, and the latter was waiting to greet them. The new teacher's seat was still empty.  
  
Just as the last student sat down and all began to wait for the first years to appear (not quietly, unfortunately), Snape heard a snap as a door opened and closed behind him as well as a whoosh as someone ran to her seat. It had to be the new teacher, since all the other teachers were accounted for. He turned his head slightly so that he could see her as she sat down.  
  
It was all he could do not to stand up and curse Dumbledore into next year.  
  
Of all the people the Headmaster could have chosen, WHY had he picked this child?! It was none other than that idiot girl from the tournament last year! What the hell could SHE know about the Dark Arts?!  
  
Snape took a sip of his wine, unaware that the house-elves would later marvel at the noticeable teeth marks he left on the rim of the goblet. In his mind, he was already making plans to scare the girl witless. In doing so, he remembered how he had taken the last few Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers "under his wing."  
  
Quirrell had been easy to terrify, even with Voldemort attached to the back of his head; Snape hardly even had to put effort into it. Gilderoy Lockhart had been more of a challenge; by the end of the year, however, the blond-haired idiot had been walking on eggshells around Snape. Whether or not Snape had any frightening effect on Remus Lupin was doubtful; the werewolf had done an excellent job at hiding his emotions (if Snape hadn't hated him so much, he would've been impressed). The last teacher, Barty Crouch, had been masquerading as Mad-Eye Moody, causing Snape to be the careful one; after some consideration, Snape thought this was a good thing, since Crouch had practically been waiting for the excuse to kill him for allying himself with Dumbledore.  
  
Snape looked back at Fleur De' Whatever-Her-Name-Was. She had already gotten herself into a conversation with Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be enamored with her. If she felt the heat of Snape's glare, she managed to ignore it. As the first years were finally led into the room by McGonagall, Snape continued to think of nasty ways of terrifying the new teacher.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Three. 


	4. Chapter Four

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Four By Jewel Little Bird  
  
As the new first years were being Sorted ("Beskosty, Calli!" "RAVENCLAW!" "Beskosty, Jamie!" "RAVENCLAW!"), Fleur allowed her mind to wander a bit. Not to her surprise, most of the female teachers were rather cold to her; McGonagall barely managed to be the most civil. Most of the male teachers became flabbergasted the second she entered the room; again, no surprise there. It was the exceptions that surprised her.  
  
Madam Hooch and Professor Sinistra seemed to enjoy Fleur's company, the former very much so. Professor Trelawny, whom Fleur had insisted on meeting, had practically fallen in love with her (she had gone all puppy- eyed at Fleur and proceeded to tell her that she'd 'suffer greatly but be comforted by the chameleon,' whatever that meant); Fleur had made a mental note not to ever see the woman unless it became absolutely necessary.  
  
Hagrid, like Filch, was immune to her veela power, but in a different way; Filch hated Fleur, there was no doubt about that, but Hagrid seemed to think of her as a child, not a young woman (every time he saw her he called her "Young'un"). Then there was Dumbledore; as far as she was concerned, he seemed immune to almost anything.  
  
Then there was Snape.  
  
Fleur would never forget him. She'd never been formally introduced, but Madam Maxime had pointed him out to her last year and told her to stay away from him if at all possible. Since this year it would be even more difficult to do so, she decided just to be careful around him.  
  
A couple of hours earlier, Madam Hooch had been kind enough (or smitten enough, Fleur wasn't dense) to give her a quick but thorough tour of the castle, mostly so that Fleur wouldn't get lost. Along the way, they'd seen Snape, and Fleur had unintentionally given Hooch gossip fodder about him.  
  
Earlier That Day:  
  
Madam Hooch walked with Fleur through the corridors, explaining all sorts of things to Fleur that were "necessary" as well as describing some of the teachers and their habits. Fleur wasn't really paying attention; she was more concerned with getting back to her room in time to get what she needed to take a quick shower before the Welcoming Feast. She hadn't bathed since the morning before and felt disgusting.  
  
As they passed one of the dungeon classrooms, Fleur saw Snape hard at work on a potion. Hooch snorted. "You'll want to be careful around him girl," she said. "He's as nasty as you can get without being all-out evil."  
  
"Oui, I zink Madam Maxime told me about 'im," Fleur said absently with a nod as they continued on. "'E is Professor. Snap-Ay, oui? Ze Potions Mastair?"  
  
Hooch stared at her for a second, completely dumbstruck, then proceeded to laugh hysterically. "Oh, don't let him catch you calling him that! You'd never live to see the dawn!"  
  
"Is zat not what 'e's called?"  
  
"He's called 'Snape,' though I'd love to see his reaction if you called him Snap-Ay!"  
  
Present Time:  
  
From the quick glance she'd thrown at Snape, there was no doubt in her mind that he was immune to her veela powers. She leaned towards Professor Flitwick. "Why is Professor Snape so angairy?" she asked as students continued to be sorted ("Lee, Kristina!" "SLYTHERIN!").  
  
Flitwick cast an annoyed glance at the Potions Master. "He's just upset that he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again. Seventh or eighth time by now, I believe. He'll try to make you nervous every chance he gets, so just ignore him." He smiled at her ("Pinette, Nicole!" "GRYFFINDOR!"). "Don't worry about him; the rest of us like you!"  
  
She smiled, knowing that he was wrong, but deciding not to inform him of this.  
  
After the last first year student got to her house table, Dumbledore stood up to give them all a few words before they began to eat ("Enjoy the feast"). Looking over all the tables, she finally spotted Harry Potter and his two friends. There was no doubt in Fleur's mind that the girl (what was her name... Krum had called her Hermy-own-ninny, but that couldn't be right) did not like her. To her relief, though, Harry did not seem very susceptible to her powers. His redheaded friend, however, seemed to be spellbound by her even when she wasn't using her power. Nonetheless, she'd be forever grateful to those two for saving Gabrielle.  
  
After the feast, Dumbledore stood up to tell the students a few more things before they all went to bed. Fleur let it all go in one ear and fly out the other until she heard him say, "... Professor De'Lacour, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"  
  
She smiled and waved at the students, mostly as an excuse to see their reactions. A good 95% of the boys were clapped excessively hard, including Harry's friend. Of the other 5%, a total of only two looked unhappy.  
  
And there were only ten girls clapping; a grand total of three actually seemed happy to do so.  
  
Well, she thought. If this is going to be the case, then I better show them my other side once we get into the classroom. She had also noted over the years how much girls got to like her better once they'd seen her "other side."  
  
The feast finally over (Fleur hadn't been pleased with the selection of food; she's have to ask someone where the kitchens were), both students and teachers got up to go to their rooms. Harry and his redheaded friend waved at her and shouted, "Good luck, Fleur!" as they left. She grinned and waved back, causing the redhead to blush furiously.  
  
She waited until everyone else had left before leaving her seat and heading for her room. She wanted it to be reasonably quiet on the way there so she could think a bit. She hummed to herself as she cleared her mind. Doing this, for some strange reason, also allowed her to "feel" if there was anyone around. Though she hadn't told anyone, that was the reason she had screamed during the third task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament: she had known Barty Crouch was there.  
  
And that was how she knew the Potions Master was right behind her.  
  
"So, you're the new teacher?" he said venomously. If he wasn't trying to be evil, he could melt hearts with that deep voice.  
  
She calmly turned around and crossed her arms, looking him up and down. He was pale from the lack of sunlight, and his black robes made the effect worse. Also, his hair was rather greasy, as if he brushed it regularly but forgot to actually wash it. He was tall, too; a food five inches taller than she was. His black eyes were as hard as ice, and his expression of disgust did not help his looks at all.  
  
Even as she had looked him over, he examined her in a way that felt like she was being stripped. Somehow, she wasn't that surprised. Men like Snape would not be affected by veela charms, but they were men, nonetheless, and seemingly fascinated by the thought of a naked woman.  
  
"Oui, I am ze new teachair," she said carefully. "And you would be ze Potions Mastair?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
A thought popped into her head. It's either ask him or go to a shop and buy it, she thought. Besides, his reaction might be entertaining. "Well, I was wondairing eef you could make me a potion? I'm not too good at potions myself, and I'm sure zey would over-charge me eef I tried to buy what I need."  
  
The side of his mouth twitched; he seemed to be pleased. "What exactly do you need?"  
  
She smiled innocently though she wanted to laugh (courtesy of acting lessons when she was younger). "You see, I 'ave very nasty periods. Zey're very bloody, and ze cramps are terrible. I can deal with ze blood, but I was wondairing eef you could come up with somezing to get rid of ze painful cramps?"  
  
The look on his face was precious. It was a cross between "dumbstruck" and "horrified." Fleur wished she had a camra.  
  
"Eef, 'owever, you are unable to make me somezing, zen maybe you can suggest a place where I can buy what I need?"  
  
The look on his face became furious. Apparently, saying that he was unable to make something struck a nerve. "I can make you a draft that will get rid of the pain easily," he growled, looking for all the world like he wanted to kill her, "and it will work better than anything you could buy."  
  
"Zat's good to know." She made her smile flirtatious, knowing it would only irritate him more, then turned and continued towards her room. "Zank you!"  
  
She planned to laugh the night away, dreaming of the look on his face.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Four 


	5. Chapter Five

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Five By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Snape stormed towards his room, utterly furious with himself. He'd completely underestimated the girl, and because of that he was going to bang his head against a wall a few times before going to bed.  
  
Round 1 - Snape: 0, De'Lacour: 10  
  
He was so angry, in fact, that he nearly walked into the painting that covered the entrance to his room. He hissed the password ("Killer"), and stalked into his room, throwing himself on the bed. His room was exactly like Fleur's room (and every other teacher's room, for that matter) except that the prominent colors were black and metallic green, the bed sheets were a solid white, and the fireplace had snakes carved on the sides.  
  
He'd meant to scare Fleur, and instead had discovered that up close she was really very shapely under her robes. Her big blue eyes had held a mischievous twinkle that had caught his attention. He was only human; though not affected by her veela charms, he still saw her as a woman.  
  
To his horror, he found he couldn't remember what Lily looked like.  
  
He sat up on his bed like a shot, yanked open the drawer in the night table, and pulled out a photograph that he kept hidden there. Only Filch and the house-elves knew of the photograph, and they wouldn't breathe a word about it to God himself.  
  
Lily sat at an outdoor café table, reading a book and sipping a cup of tea. Her green eyes turned to look at him, and she smiled happily and waved as he gazed at her. He'd stolen the picture from James in their seventh year. The red-haired witch who'd stolen his heart drove any remaining thoughts of Fleur out of his mind.  
  
He sat there for half the night, memorizing Lily's figure before he finally fell asleep, the picture clutched in a death grip.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Five 


	6. Chapter Six

If you're all wondering why I put this chapter up with chapter five, it's because chapter five is awfully short, even by my standards. So, I thought I'd give you this one as well.  
  
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Six Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur was very pleased with herself.  
  
Everyone in her very first class had entered in one frame of mind, then left in another. The boys had all been gawking at her while the girls had been glaring. She'd only sat calmly at her desk, waiting for them to pay attention. Once she'd been sure they were, she'd stood up and looked each one in the eye as she called out the names on the roster to make sure they were all present. Then she'd smiled at them and began the speech she'd prepared.  
  
"Now, I'm sure you're all curious about me, and why someone so young is teaching you. For ze moment, zat is none of your business. 'Owever, what is your business is zat I weell allow no slacking off in zis class." Her smile had became nasty. "Eef I give you 'omework, I want it complete on ze day I assign it for, not before, not after. I weell not accept anyzing late. 'Omework counts for a zird of your total grade.  
  
"Eef I ask a question, I expect you all to try and answer. I do not care eef you are wrong or eef you are right. I only care zat you are paying enough attention to try and answer. Class participation is another zird of your total grade.  
  
"When I give you a test, I will 'ave told you about it only one week ahead of time. During zat week, I weell expect you to study hard. During a written test, ze only sounds I want to 'ear are ze sounds of your quills on your papairs. Eef you try to cheat in any way, form, or fashion, I weell rip up your test, and you weell get a zero. During a practical test, I do not want any fooling around. Eef you do fool around, you weell get a zero for ze test. Tests count for ze final zird of your total grade."  
  
She'd leaned forward and let her anger burst forth. Veela, though technically emotionless, did manage to bring forth one emotion in abundance: anger. Doing so, however, could be dangerous for anyone too close. "AND EEF ANY OF YOU TRY MY PATIENCE, YOU WEELL WISH I WAS PROFESSOR SNAPE!!"  
  
The boys had all left clearly shaken, whereas the girls had been impressed.  
  
At the moment, Fleur was humming a tune as she cleared the blackboard of the homework assignment she'd written on it. She smiled a bit to herself as Snape snuck up on her, no doubt thinking he could startle her. "Bonjour, Professor Snape," she chirped, not bothering to turn around. "And what may I do for you?"  
  
There was no doubt in her mind that he wanted to know how she knew he was there; however, he did not ask. "As a matter of fact, I have that potion you requested."  
  
She finally turned around. "You do? I didn't zink such a potion could be made wizin twenty-four 'ours."  
  
He handed her a small vial. "It can. The batch I made will only be good for two months, however I'm sure you'll use it all before then. You need to take one dose in the morning when you wake up and one at night before you go to bed while you're... menstruating. There is only one dose in that vial; I've more ready when you need it."  
  
"Zank you, Professor," she purred. "Zat's very kind of you." Just to see his reaction, she kissed is cheek.  
  
He looked as if she'd hit him on the head with a frying pan.  
  
Supressing the urge to giggle hysterically, she swept past him and walked out of the classroom. There was ten minutes before her next class, and she wanted to put the vial in her room right away.  
  
Besides, Snape looked like he needed time to recover. Only when she was sure she was out of his earshot did she start laughing.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Six 


	7. Chapter Seven

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Seven By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Snape was going to murder her. Slowly.  
  
So, she thought I wouldn't find out, did she? He thought, tramping up the stairs. He knew she was at the top of the North Tower; Hooch said she liked the view from up there. If she didn't give him an answer he liked, she was going to discover more than a nice view.  
  
Fleur turned as he burst through the door. She was right next to the wall, leaning her arms on the top of it. She must've been looking at the Forbidden Forest.  
  
He stalked over and glared down at her. "Think you're funny, do you?!"  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"I overheard Hooch telling McGonagall a VERY amusing story, one which seemed to revolve around you." He leaned closer, itching to rip her face off. "You called me 'Snap-Ay'?!"  
  
"I did not know it was not pronounced zat way. It is what Madam Maxime called you, and I 'ad no reason to zink she mis-pronounced it."  
  
He grabbed her robes (and possibly her bra straps; no wait, don't think that) and lifted her off her feet. To his annoyance, she was only surprised, not scared. "You did it on purpose!"  
  
"I did not!"  
  
It was possible she was telling the truth; at the moment, he didn't care. He'd had a lousy day, and he just wanted someone to blame. "So, you like jokes? How about I play one on you?!" With that, he threw her over the side.  
  
Reason came flooding back and hit him like a tidal wave. The first thought that popped into his head was: Dumbledore's going to kill me.  
  
Luckily for him (or perhaps unluckily), Dumbledore would not be performing executions any time soon. With a screech, Fleur flew back up to the top of the tower and hovered over the wall. She still looked human, but barely. Her mouth had become a hideous cross between jaws and beak, and it clacked angrily. Wings had sprouted from her shoulders and feathers covered her legs and arms. Her hands had half-way morphed into the claws of a raptor, and her blond hair waved around her face in the whirlwind her flapping wings created.  
  
Snape was impressed. She looked evil.  
  
"I 'OPE YOU LIKE BLOOD," she screeched, "BECAUSE YOU ARE GOING TO BE SEEING A LOT OF IT!!!!"  
  
@  
  
Filch handed Snape another roll of bandages. "Sure you don't want to see Pmphrey?" he asked as he sat down on his desk next to Mrs. Norris.  
  
"Hell, no." Snape dabbed disinfectant on the slashes Fleur had ever so kindly distributed all over his upper body. "She'll want to know what happened, and I'm not telling her the truth, nor am I going to tell her the owls don't like me." He wrapped the bandage around the gashes on his chest. Though the wounds hurt like hell, he was smiling.  
  
"I've only seen you grin like that once before, and that was when the Granger girl was petrified a couple years ago." Filch raised an eyebrow, asking his question without speaking.  
  
"Filch, I've never been more impressed in my life. She's got the sweet innocent girl look - "  
  
"More like whore."  
  
" - and underneath is a set of fangs that Voldemort would be proud of," Snape continued, preferring to ignore Filch's comment. He held out his right arm, which looked like it had gone through a shredder. "Could you give me a hand here?" His grin faded a bit. "It's a good thing she didn't think to attack my left arm."  
  
Filch shrugged, took the bandage and wrapped it around Snape's arm for him. "I never thought you'd be the type to be immune to a veela."  
  
Snape wondered at the change of subject until he heard the chattering outside the door. Students were nearby and might overhear. Since he didn't care much to talk about the Dark Mark, he happily took up the loose thread Filch dangled. "There is more than one way to ward one's self against veela powers."  
  
"I know that if you're not sexually inclined towards the sex of a particular veela, then you end up disliking her or him, but that's all I know." He seemed to think for a minute. "I think Dumbledore is asexual; he doesn't seem to like any veelas in a sexual way...."  
  
"If a man is totally devoted to a single woman," Snape said quickly, not wishing to discuss Dumbledore's sex life, "the veela will have no affect on him. Devoted is the key word; the object in question doesn't necessarily have to be female or even human."  
  
"Ah, that explains it." Filch grinned as he tied off the end of the bandage. "There's only one lady in my life. Isn't that right, my sweet?" That last line was directed towards Mrs. Norris, who purred in response. "Doesn't explain Hagrid, though. The whore doesn't affect him, and I'd know if she did. I've seen him smitten before."  
  
"Hagrid sees anyone under 6 feet as being a child," Snape replied. "If you see a veela as an elder or a child, they cannot affect you."  
  
"Hmm. Maybe that's why she doesn't affect Dumbledore. Even I don't know how old he is. Probably sees Flitwick as a child." He put away the bandage roll and looked at the Potions Master. "So, what are you going to do about her?"  
  
"What else? As impressed as I was by her display, I don't fancy seeing it again." He pulled on clean, unshredded robes then bundled the ruined ones up. "I'll get her some time this week and call a truce." He looked at the bundle in his hands. "What should I do with this? The house- elves won't be able to repair it."  
  
"I'll give it to Hagrid," Filch said, taking it. "He's been saying he wants to make a bed for that monstrosity that he calls Fluffy."  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Seven 


	8. Chapter Eight

Starting today, I'm going to be uploading two chapters on Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Why so often? Because I have the rest of the story finished and typed up onto the computer, and those are the days I'm online. Why not all at once? Because it's a total of 31 chapters (though that's not talking much; very few chapters are more than a page long) and I know that could take some time to read or discourage other people. Sides, I like making people wait just as much as I hate waiting.  
  
Wait... did that last line make any sense?  
  
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Eight By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur happily munched on the corton and crackers the house-elves had given her. She was sitting in front of a fireplace where she would not be in the way of the little creatures. She looked around the kitchen in interest, noting that it looked just like the Great Hall directly above it. Her eyes lingered on a house-elf dressed in mismatched socks and a tea cozy for a moment before she turned her attention back to her snack.  
  
During her last class today, she had decided that she was sick of the inferior food that had been served lately, and decided to find the kitchens and make a few requests. Luckily for her, the class had Harry and his two friends (she'd learned their names were Hermione and Ron) sitting right it front.  
  
Earlier That Day:  
  
After the class she beckoned Harry, Ron, and Hermione forward. Ron seemd to be one of those few who were completely vulnerable to a veela, temper or no temper; Hermione had to reach over and close his mouth.  
  
"'Arry, Ron, 'Ermione, I was wondering eef you knew someone 'oo could direct me to ze kichens? I would like to ask ze house-elves somezing."  
  
"Yeah, sure, we know," Ron said quickly, looking pathetically eager. Fleur mentally checked if her veela power was on. It wasn't. "The entrance is in the hall with painting of food. There's one with a picture of a fruit bowl; you tickle the pear and it turned into a door handle. The painting opens right up to the kitchens."  
  
Super-vulnerable, more like.  
  
Hermione snorted. She seemed to like Fleur a little better after her "cross me and die" speech, but only a little. "Don't care much for the food?"  
  
Fleur smirked at her. "I'm French. I'm used to foods zat are spiced, sautéed, and marinated in delicate wines. Ze simple fair 'ere is not appealing to me."  
  
Present Time:  
  
So, here she was, sitting in the kitchen and rather enjoying herself. The house-elves had happily said they'd send her requested courses to her seat at the high table and that she could come down any time for a snack.  
  
She planned on doing so quite often.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Eight 


	9. Chapter Nine

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Nine By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Snape walked down the hall, going over every form of apology he'd ever learned, from simply saying, "I'm sorry," to getting on his knees and begging for mercy. Once he looked into Fleur's eyes, he'd know which one to use.  
  
He hoped he wouldn't have to beg. He did enough of that for Voldemort.  
  
He opened the door to her classroom and saw her sitting at her desk, carefully grading papers. She didn't look up. "Bonjour, Professor," she said, her voice colder than an iceburg. "'Ow may I 'elp you?"  
  
He walked up to her desk, placed his hands on it, and leaned forward. He waited until she looked him in the eye. Good; he wouldn't need to beg. "I've come to apologize for my behavior yesterday."  
  
Her eyes remained emotionless as she remained silent.  
  
"I had a rather terrible day, yesterday, and was looking for someone to blame, so to speak. Unfortunately for both of us, it turned out to be you. I would like to call a truce."  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "And your ulterior motive is to make sure I don't shred you again."  
  
"Yes, and I have my reasons, all of which have nothing to do with the pain. That's something I've been able to handle for a long time."  
  
She laced her fingers together and leaned back in her chair, never taking her eyes from his. It was completely silent in the room for a long moment. Finally, she nodded. "Apology accepted." She smiled evilly; a hint of wings appeared behind her. "Cross me again, and you won't live zrough it. Undairstand?"  
  
He smiled right back. Claws or not, she didn't scare him. He'd seen worse. "Understood."  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Nine 


	10. Chapter Ten

Thought I'd warn you all. For the next few chapters, Fleur is going to be speaking French every once in a while. Literally. If you do not speak French and would like to know what she's saying, I translated everything at babelfish.altavista.com/.  
  
For all those who do speak French, forgive me if I got grammar or punctuation wrong. I pretty much assume that the website I used spelled every word right, but I don't speak French at all, so I wouldn't know.  
  
....  
  
Do you know it's only now just occurred to me to say that none of the characters in this story belong to me? They belong to J.K. Rowling. This is typical of myself in daily life....  
  
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Ten By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur ran her fingers over the head of the tawny owl as it dropped the letter it carried into her hand. It closed its eyes blissfully, and then hooted to her before it flew off. Ignoring the rest of her croissant, she opened the envelope and pulled out a single piece of lavender paper. Written on the front in lovely script was:  
  
"Cher Fleur,  
  
"Le directeur nous avait donné la permission de vous rendre visite chez Hogwarts pour Noël. Nous pourrons vous voir après tant de mois! Nous arriverons le jour après que tous les étudiants partent.  
  
"Amour toujours, votre mère."  
  
With a smile, Fleur flipped it over, sure of what she'd find. Sure enough, a second letter in very untidy printing read:  
  
"Cher Fleur,  
  
"Nous venons pour Noël! Vous aimerez ce que je vous ai obtenu pour un présent! Je m'ennuie de vous!  
  
"Gabrielle."  
  
Too happy to finish eating, Fleur folded up the letter and thrust it into a pocket as she got up from the table and practically bounced all the way to her room. Just outside the portrait covering the door stood Dumbledore, waiting patiently.  
  
He smiled when he saw her. "Ah! I see I don't need to tell you about your family."  
  
"Zey just sent me a lettair!" she said happily. She gave him an impulsive hug. "Zank you, 'Eadmastair!"  
  
"No trouble at all, my dear," he replied, patting her shoulder as she pulled away. "Consider it my Christmas present to you."  
  
@  
  
Two days later, Fleur was happily showing her mother and sister around the castle. Not surprisingly, her father had decided to stay at the hotel in Muggle London, preferring not to see his eldest daughter. Fleur didn't really care.  
  
Gabrielle was completely fascinated by everything. She was so intrigued, in fact, that she asked their mother if she could stay with Fleur until Christmas. Their mother had smiled and said yes.  
  
That evening, after their mother had left, Gabrielle happily followed Fleur into the Great Hall. She'd seen it once before, but not bedecked in Christmas splendor. "Fleur, il est si joli!"  
  
"N'est-il pas?" Fleur took Gabrielle by the hand and led her towards her seat. Flitwick had gone away for Christmas, so his seat was empty. It was perfect for Gabrielle, who was only eight and still rather small.  
  
Dumbledore looked over and smiled at them. "Well! I do believe I perceive two De'Lacours this evening. What a pleasant surprise!"  
  
"She weell be staying with me in my rooms until Chreestmas eef zat is alright, 'Eadmastair," Fleur replied.  
  
"Perfectly alright!"  
  
Gabrielle waved happily at him. "Bonjour again, Monsieur 'Eadmastair!" she chirped. She'd been introduced to him last year.  
  
Like Fleur, Gabrielle did not much care for British cuisine, so Fleur split her dinner with the child, promising her they'd visit the kitchens later. After they were finished eating, however, Snape finally put in an appearance.  
  
"Oh, no," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice as they got up. He had just come out from the door behind them. "Two of you."  
  
"Good evening, Professor Snape," Fleur said cordially, ignoring his comment. "May I introduce my little sister, Gabrielle?" She pushed her sister forward. "Gabrielle, ceci est les breuvages magiques maître, professeur Snape."  
  
Gabrielle made a face before turning to look at Fleur. "Il doit se laver les cheveux."  
  
Fleur quickly looked up at Snape. She didn't know how much French he knew, but from his expression, he knew enough to understand what Gabrielle said. "Allons, Gabrielle. Allons voient la maison-elves, maintenant." With that, she took Gabrielle's hand and practically ran out of the Great Hall.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Ten 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Ever been partway through something and only then realized there was a pattern to it? I've only just now realized that I've written this story so that the odd chapters are written from Snape's point of view and that the even chapters are written from Fleur's point of view. Strange, no?  
  
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Eleven By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Snape and Filch walked down the hall, side by side, saying nothing. They didn't need to, not after all these years. They hadn't said everything there was to say, but sometimes, mutual silence was needed.  
  
Some sort of commotion in the next ajoining hall disturbed it. Figuring it was some students stuck at the school for the holidays set on creating some form of trouble on Christmas day, the two hurried and took the turn, only to stop in surprise.  
  
They'd accidentally intruded on a family squabble.  
  
Fleur was there, arguing with a man that could only be her father. Nearby stood Gabrielle and her mother, obviously not wanting to be there but not exactly having any choice. "Pére, Engendrez-vous, pourquoi insistez-vous toujours pour faire ceci?" Fleur snapped at her father. "Noël est censé être un jour pour l'amusement!"  
  
"Noël est censé être dépensé avec la famille," her father replied coldly. "Que devrait-il importer si nous jouons des jeux ou allons à un restaurant agréable pour le dîner?"  
  
"Oui, et forcez-nous à être l'en public! Nous devrions être ensemble, oui, moi sommes d'accord avec celui, mais nous devrions être quelque part privés où nous pouvons parler entre eux sans inquiéter ce quelqu'un écoute à la prochaine table!"  
  
"Mon mot est final, Fleur."  
  
Fleur glanced over, looking harried, but quickly smiled when she saw the rather uncomfortable Snape and Filch. "Ah! My two friends!"  
  
Snape glanced at Filch, who did the same. What was she up to?  
  
"Mère, Père, peut je présenter les breuvages magiques maître, professeur Severus Snape, et le gardien, Argus Filch." Mrs. Norris meowed. "Ah, oui, et c'est le chat d'Argus, Mme. Norris." She beamed at Snape and Filch, both of whom had hidden their emotions enough times to hide their surprise and confusion now. "Severus, Argus, these are my parents, Michelle and George De'Lacour."  
  
"Charmed," Snape and Filch said flatly, in perfect unison.  
  
Michelle De'Lacour smiled. "Plesed to met yoo boz," she said politely in clipped English.  
  
George De'Lacour could've been a stone statue for all the reastion he made. His blond hair and piercing eyes revealed where Fleur and Gabrielle had gotten their veela blood. He didn't seem surprised that Snape and Filch were glaring at him, nor did he seem to care that Mrs. Norris looked like she'd fly into him and claw off his face if he moved wrong.  
  
After a tense moment, he finally nodded to them, and took his wife's hand. "Fleur, Gabrielle, venez. Nous devons obtenir de nouveau à l'hôtel, soyons alors sur notre chemin au restaurant."  
  
"Oui, Pére," Fleur replied genteelly, managing to make "pére" sound like an insult.  
  
As the four of them moved off, Filch leaned towards Snape. "You know, I thought I hated Fleur. I like her father even less."  
  
Snape nodded. "I know." He watched as they disappeared around a corner. "There doesn't seem to be any love lost between the two of them, does there?"  
  
Filch shook his head. "Nope." He looked down at Mrs. Norris, who was pressing against his leg and growling as she stared at where George De'Lacour had disappeared from sight. "He's gone, my sweet. No need to worry."  
  
Snape felt a chill run down his spine. He'd gone, she's gone, they're all gone, Professor Trelawny's voice seemed to say inside his head.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Eleven 


	12. Chapter Twelve

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twelve By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur woke up and looked around. Gabrielle, who had talked their mother into letting her stay with Fleur just one more night, was sitting on the floor in her nightdress, drawing on the back of a ruined piece of parchment with a bunch of crayons. She looked up and smiled. "Regardez, Fleur!" she chirped, holding it up. "Je vous ai dessiné et le graisseux cheveux l'homme! J'ai également dessiné l'homme effrayant et son chat!"  
  
She had indeed, and she'd done it in that innocent style that only young children could manage. She'd drawn Fleur in a white dress and seemed to have added Snape as an afterthought, making it look as if he was holding Fleur's hand. His nose seemed to be drawn abnormally large. In the background stood what must've been Filch and Mrs. Norris; Fleur assumed it was them since Filch looked to be growling and Mrs. Norris was drawn with her back arched and the word "hss" coming from her mouth.  
  
"C'est... très bon, Gabrielle." She sat up, her eyes falling on the Mirror of Erised. It was still covered on the cloth she'd conjured months ago. It felt like years. "Gabrielle, veulent voir quelque chose stupéfier?"  
  
"Oui, oui!"  
  
Fleur got out of bed and took the cloth off the mirror. Gabrielle was also part veela, so it would not affect her that much. "Que voyez- vous?"  
  
Gabrielle blinked, then clapped her hands and giggled. "C'est vous et mama!"  
  
Fleur grinned. "Est-ce que ce n'est pas intéressant?"  
  
"Oui! Oui!" Gabrielle grinned back. "Vous êtes dans une robe de mariage!"  
  
Fleur wondered at that as she draped the cloth over the mirror once more, and then shrugged. "Venez. Allons prennent le petit déjeuner."  
  
@  
  
After they ate, Fleur reluctantly returned Gabrielle to the hotel. She had a bad feeling, but figured it was only her imagination. After promising Gabrielle that they'd go shopping together the next day, Fleur returned to Hogwarts so that she could prepare for her classes, which began again next week.  
  
As she tried to read her writing, her attention kept drifting back to Gabrielle. What's wrong? She thought. Why do I have such a bad feeling?  
  
After an hour, she gave up all pretense of working and proceeded to pace. This was what she was doing when Dumbledore entered the room, another wizard right behind him. She looked from one to the other. "'Eadmastair?"  
  
"Fleur, I'm afraid we have some bad news," Dumbledore said seriously. "It's about your family."  
  
She only stared. "What about zem?"  
  
The other wizard shifted uncomfortably. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," was all he said.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twelve. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Thirteen By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Snape and Filch were sitting in the latter's office playing, ironically, Scrabble. Filch was winning with 218 points. Snape had 15.  
  
"'Zoomancy'," Filch said, putting down his letters. "Let me see, that's a double letter scor for the M, a triple word score thanks to the Z, and a 50 point bonus for using all my letters, which means I have... 80 points."  
  
Snape looked murderous. "'Zoomancy' isn't a word!"  
  
"It is. If you want, however, you can challenge it."  
  
"I will," Snape growled, picking up Filch's copy of the Unabridged Webster's Dictionary (it was somewhere between seven and eight inches thick). Within thirty seconds, Filch's score had become 298 and Snape had lost yet another turn.  
  
Filch reached into the cloth bag for another seven letters. "Any idea why Dumbledore told us to keep an eye on the whore?"  
  
Snape didn't need to ask who "the whore" was. Filch obviously liked Fleur enough to give her a nickname (his nickname for Snape was "killer"). "Nope." Snape thought for a minute. "Shouldn't we be doing that?"  
  
"Don't worry. I told Mrs. Norris to ignore Hagrid and to watch Fleur like a hawk. She'll come running to us if there's a problem." He examined the letters in his hand. "Ooh, we ARE lucky today...."  
  
"Out of curiosity, you haven't happened to memorize the dictionary, have you?"  
  
"Reading the dictionary is an excellent cure for my insomnia." Filch put down six of his letters. One was a blank. "'Qadi'. Let me see, that's...." He paused.  
  
There was an urgent scratching noise at the door. The two looked at each other, jumped up, and ran to the door, yanking it open.  
  
Mrs. Norris meowed imperatively, and then took off like a shot. Snape and Filch followed her at a dead run. The cat led them through a maze of halls and hidden corridors, finally reaching the seventh floor on the south side of the castle. She dashed through an open door. Snape and Filch skidded to a halt.  
  
Fleur was standing on the edge of the window, completely expressionless. "Do you zink," she asked quietly as the two men stared at her in shock, "zat I would black out before I 'it ze ground?" She bent her knees, preparing to jump.  
  
"WE'RE NOT ABOUT TO LET YOU FIND OUT!!!" Filch shouted as they sprinted forward and hauled her back into the room. She didn't resist. "Dumbledore has a hard enough time finding Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. We don't need you you make it worse!"  
  
She looked from one to the other then burst into tears.  
  
Uncomfortable, they led her back to her room. Snape, who had been walking around with a set of emergency potions ever since Dumbledore told him to watch Fleur, forced her to drink the Draught of Dreamless Sleep, then, with the help of Filch, bundled her into the blankets.  
  
They walked in silence to Filch's office, leaving Mrs. Norris to stand guard over Fleur. Once inside, Filch sat in deep thought while Snape paced, the game forgotten.  
  
"Why would she want to jump?" Snape snapped, unnerved by the silence.  
  
Filch gave him a look. "Isn't it obvious? We've had to keep an eye on her ever since that Death Eater attack in Muggle London the day after Christmas. Her family must've been there and...." His voice trailed off.  
  
Snape whirled on him. "That's no reason to go and end her life!"  
  
"Nor is it a reason to die when a woman who didn't even know you existed is murdered," Filch replied quietly.  
  
"I never - !"  
  
"Really?" He reached into one of the drawers and pulled out an old rope that had been tied into a noose. The noose part looked as if it had been sawed through quickly. "Remember this? I do."  
  
Snape's mouth snapped shut.  
  
"It was a damn good thing I found you when I did, too, otherwise you really would've terrified the kids the next morning. Probably would've given them nightmares." Filch put the rope back.  
  
Snape's eyes narrowed. "I still don't understand why you did it."  
  
"It was only fair, right? You wouldn't let me poison myself, so why should I have let you hang?"  
  
"Why do you keep the rope?"  
  
"Why do you keep the poison bottle?"  
  
Snape sighed then finally sat down. For a few minutes, there was complete silence. He looked down at the game board, then at Filch. "'Qadi' isn't a word."  
  
"Want to challenge it?"  
  
The game continued with Filch at a round 320 and Snape still at 15, the later having lost another turn once again.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Thirteen 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Fourteen By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur watched the class file out, only vaguely aware that all of her students seemed worried about her change of attitude. She was melancholy and not as enthusiastic when teaching them. She didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore.  
  
She waited until the door closed, then opened the left hand drawer and pulled out a piece of parchment and a vial. The parchment was the picture Gabrielle had drawn the day she died. Inside the vial was a thick black liquid. She'd secretly brewed it one of the lavatories, one that no one conveniently went to because of the ghost haunting one of the toilets.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she pulled out the cork and swallowed the contents, then put the picture back in the drawer.  
  
The door opened.  
  
She quickly tossed the bottle into the wastepaper basket by her desk as Harry, Ron, and Hermione came in. She looked at them in surprise. She didn't have them until Thursday; what were they doing here now?  
  
Harry and Ron seemed too uncomfortable to say anything, so Hermione did. "We know what happened, Fleur," she whispered.  
  
What? How could they know Fleur tried to jump out the window? Even Dumbledore didn't know that.  
  
"I'm sorry about your family," Hermione continued. She motioned towards Harry and Ron. "We all are. We thought we'd let you know that we'll be there for you if you ever need someone."  
  
"Zank you," Fleur whispered, suddenly feeling weak. "Zat's very kind of you." She blinked. Her eyesight was going black at the edges.  
  
Harry frowned. "Are you alright? You don't look so good."  
  
"I 'ave not been sleeping well, lately," she replied truthfully. She hadn't, either; she kept having nightmares of Gabrielle screaming in fright as a Death Easter pointed his wand at her and said the fatal words.  
  
Fleur had a headache; why wouldn't they go away?  
  
Sir Nicholas floated through the door. Just what she needed: a crowd. "Oh, there you are!" he said, spotting Harry and Ron. "McGonagall is looking for you two. Something about the next Quidditch game." He looked at Fleur and frowned. "Are you alright, Ms. De'Lacour? You look ill."  
  
She smiled wanly. "I'm alright."  
  
Just then, Hermione seemed to put two and two together. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Fleur!"  
  
Fleur was only vaguely aware of falling and shouting as her vision became black.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Fourteen 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Fifteen By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Snape corrected homework assignments while wondering whom the hell was running down the hall like a maniac. He debated bursting out of the classroom and scaring the offender shitless, only to have the decision taken out of his hands as Hermione burst into the room. He noted with surprise that the normally calm girl was in a panic.  
  
"Professor! Professor!" she screeched at a pitch that should've shattered glass.  
  
"Stop screaming, Ms. Granger. I have a headache."  
  
"It's Fleur, Professor! Sir Nicholas told me to get you! She's poisoned herself!"  
  
Snape flew from his seat and grabbed her arm on his way to the door, practically dragging her. "Take me there!"  
  
Snape and Hermione arrived just after Dumbledore and Harry, the latter of whom had been sent for the former. Fleur was lying on the floor behind her desk, Sir Nicholas leaning over her. "She's not dead," the ghost said, "but she's nearly there."  
  
Snape knelt next to her and immediately checked her pulse, beathing, and even lifted one of her eyelids to see if her pupils were contracted or dilated. "I can't tell what she took! Look for the bottle she used." Hermione went scrambling to the desk while Harry started searching the floor.  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore's voice said behind him. "Here." The Headmaster had found the vial the poison had been in.  
  
Snape took it and sniffed the remnants of the poison and scoffed. "Painless Death," he said as Filch arrived, led by Mrs. Norris, "and a pathetic brew at that. She must've made it herself." He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out the antidote. "Filch, help me."  
  
With the caretaker's help, Snape got Fleur to drink the whole bottle just as Madam Pomphrey and Ron burst in. The nurse knelt next to Snape and checked Fleur's lifesigns, then looked at him. "What did she take?"  
  
"Painless Death. I've just given her the antidote."  
  
She nodded. "Good. She'll still need a day or so to recover."  
  
"She'll be alright, then?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yes, she'll be fine."  
  
"Argus," Dumbledore interrupted, "if you would be so kind as to help Poppy take Fleur to the infirmary?"  
  
Filch nodded as Pomphrey conjured a strecher, then helped lifted Fleur onto it and pushed it out of the room. Sir Nicholas and Mrs. Norris followed them.  
  
As Snape stood up, Dumbledore turned to the three children. "It would be appreciated if none of you mentioned this to anyone. Fleur is going through a difficult time at the moment, and she's going to need time to recover."  
  
They nodded.  
  
"And I'll be the one to deal with all three of you if anyone squeals," Snape added malishiously. Dumbledore gave him a look, but didn't say anything.  
  
They paled then nodded again, much more fervently than before.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Fifteen 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Sixteen By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur slowly opened her eyes. She was lying on a bed in the infirmary, facing the ceiling. She'd been thwarted yet again. Maybe I should wait until it is night, she thought, and then shuddered. The idea terrified her. A tear fell out of the corner of her eye.  
  
"I see you are finally awake," the Headmaster's voice said. She turned towards it and saw Dumbledore sitting on a chair beside the bed. "Severus and Argus have told me that this is the second time you've tried to end your life."  
  
More tears fell from her eyes, making his image blurry. "I 'ave never felt zis terrible," she whimpered. "I keep zinking I could 'ave at least saved Gabrielle. I just can't forgive myself."  
  
He nodded. "Yes, and I can understand that, but that doesn't make it the end of the world." He leaned forward a bit. "I know it hurts, and I also know why it hurts you more than it would if you were a full human. You are part veela, and therefore emotions rarely, if ever, overcome your reason. You've never lost something that meant the world to you, so you've never felt so unhappy. The feeling is alien to you, which is why you feel you must stop it by taking your life. Just remember this: you are not the only one who has lost someone and feels guilt about it, and if they can survive, so can you." With that, he got up and left.  
  
@  
  
Fleur returned to her teaching duties the next day, surprised that the whole school wasn't discussing her attempted suicide. Later I the day, Harry's owl delivered her a note saying that he and his friends had promised they wouldn't speak about it, and that they would've come in person if they hadn't gotten in trouble for hexing Draco Malfoy and his two friends (apparently, the Slytherins would be in the hospital wing for a week as a result).  
  
Although she had mentally promised herself she wouldn't try to kill herself again (she assumed that Dumbledore had been talking about Harry, and he was certainly surviving; if he could do it, so could she), she found she didn't have much of an appetite anymore and ate very little of her meals. After a few weeks of this, she heard students whispering among themselves when they thought she couldn't hear, saying that she was beginning to resemble Remus Lupin when he first arrived at Hogwarts two years before.  
  
She was walking down the hall, feeling a rotten headache coming on. She was due to start her period soon, and she wasn't looking forward to it.  
  
"De'Lacour."  
  
She stopped and turned. Snape stood next to her, having just come out from behind a tapestry. "Professor?"  
  
He held out a vial. "Your potion for your," he turned a bit green, "period."  
  
She took it, surprised. "'Ow did you know I was due to start?"  
  
He shrugged. "You always get a headache two days before you start, and I've become a bit of an expert at seeing if someone is not feeling well."  
  
"Oh." She smiled a bit. "Zank you." She put the vial in her pocket, turned again, and promptly fainted.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Sixteen 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Seventeen By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Snape turned to go back to his office then stopped when he heard the "thump" of something heavy hitting the floor. He groaned and turned. Sure enough, Fleur had passed out, and now lay face down at his feet.  
  
He barely registered the flash of Mrs. Norris disappearing down another passage to get Filch as he knelt beside the girl. "Bloody idiot," he muttered.  
  
Filch appeared in moments. "Been expecting this to happen," he said, rolling her over and checking her forehead for bumps. "Mrs. Norris told me she's not been eating much."  
  
"No wonder she looks like Lupin gone blond with a sex change," Snape sighed, lifting her into his arms. Despite the loss of weight, she was still heavy enough to make him stagger. "When it did occur to her to eat something, what did she devour, bricks?!" he complained.  
  
Filch snorted. "Just take her to her room. The password is 'slut'. I'll go to the kitchens and send up Winky with something light for her to eat."  
  
"Please do," Snape muttered. He took a deep breath, and then started off at a fast walk to her room. Once there, he snapped the password at the portrait that covered the door, and it obligingly swung open.  
  
He put Fleur on the bed and sighed in relief, stretching his arms. He looked around the room, only now pondering at the password Filch had given to the portrait. He must've really liked Fleur to give her a password similar to his nickname for her.  
  
Thinking it'd be best to cover her with something, he debated rolling her over and pulling the blankets out from under her until he saw the thick cloth covering something flat and tall. That would do just fine. He reached up with his left hand, not noticing the sleeve fall back far enough to reveal the Dark Mark tattooed on his forearm, and whipped off the cloth.  
  
He had not expected yet another encounter with Dumbledore's accursed Mirror of Erised.  
  
He started in dumb shock at Lily as she smiled and blew him a kiss. After what seemed like hours but could only have been a few minutes, he forced himself to cover the mirror once again. He grabbed his throat, forcing himself to breathe and not weep. Within five minutes, he had forced the tears back and was breathing normally.  
  
Just in time, too. Winky entered the room, carrying a large tray which had on it a bowl of chicken broth, crackers, and milk.  
  
"Winky," he said, "stay here and make sure she eats. Also, try to find a way to cheer her up." He swallowed. "Her family was killed recently, so you have my permission to tell her anything that you think will make her feel better. Understood?"  
  
Winky nodded. "Yes, sir. Winky understands."  
  
"Good." He opened the door and put one foot out before he thought of something. "Oh, and Winky?"  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"Don't remove that cloth." He pointed to the covered mirror, then left.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Seventeen 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Eighteen By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur pretended to be unconscious still, listening as the house-elf called Winky set down her tray on the chair next to the bed. So, she thought. Snape is a Death Eater; or, he was, but isn't now. That seems more likely, considering Dumbledore.  
  
She's seen his Dark Mark as he took the cloth from the Mirror of Erised, though he hadn't known she was awake, and it had awoken in her a little flame that only later she would recognize as obsession.  
  
"Winky knows you is awake, miss," the house-elf said right next to her. "No use pretending otherwise, so you open your eyes and eat, or Winky will be forcing the food down your throat."  
  
Fleur opened her eyes and looked at the elf. Winky wore a matching skirt and blouse that seemed to have been dragged through Hell and brought back again as well as a cute blue hat with hole cut in it so that her ears would fit through. At the moment, the house-elf looked rather stern, so Fleur sat up, took the tray from the chair, and put it on her lap. She didn't feel very hungry, but one look at Winky convinced her it was either eat it willingly or be forced. She ate.  
  
Winky seemed satisfied that Fleur was eating, so she sat on the chair the tray had been resting on, and looked back at Fleur. "Snape said that Winky is to cheer you up."  
  
"Oui. I 'eard 'im."  
  
"Miss has lost her family?" Fleur nodded. "Winky has lost her family, too." The house-elf's eyes looked watery, but Winky seemed to be beyond tears. "Master Barty killed his father, he did. Killed Master. He was a bad boy, and it's all Winky's fault. If Winky hadn't let him get a wand, she would not have been freed." She fiddled with her skirt. "But I has decided I will keep living so I can make up for my mistake." The last was whispered quietly.  
  
Fleur blinked. "You were Barty Crouch's 'ouse-elf!"  
  
Winky nodded. "Yes."  
  
Fleur bit her lip. "I'm sorry. About what 'appened."  
  
Winky shrugged. She looked very unhappy, but then seemed to cheer up about something. "It hurts, but Winky is not the only one who is hurting. Snape and Filch hurt, too. They comfort Winky when she is needing it."  
  
Fleur nearly dropped her spoon. "Snape and Filch?!"  
  
"Yes. Filch lost his sister and brother-in-law. They was killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He named his cat after his sister, he did. Snape lost someone, too, but Winky is not sure who; he keeps a picture of her in his night table drawer. Winky has had to put it back when he falls asleep with it in his hand."  
  
You are not the only one who had lost someone and feels guilt about it, Dumbledore had said, and if they can survive, so can you. Fleur had thought he meant Harry.  
  
He had meant Snape and Filch.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Eighteen 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Nineteen By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Now that most of the students had left for a Hogsmeade visit, Filch and Snape were once again able to play another Muggle board game together in the caretaker's office. They were on their sixth round of, believe it or not, CandyLand, the only game that Snape had any luck with (not that it helped him much since Filch was, once again, winning).  
  
Snape glowered at the board. "You'd think I'd be an expert at a Muggle game meant for six-year-olds, but NO, I have to be losing miserably in this, too!"  
  
Filch shrugged. "Maybe you just have rotten luck when it comes to board games. Maybe I should teach you a couple of simple card games."  
  
Snape snorted. "I'd probably be terrible at that, too. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you bewitched all your games."  
  
"Now where's the fun in that? It's much more satisfying to beat you by playing fairly."  
  
"You would think that."  
  
Filch rolled the die, got six, and won the game. Since Snape was looking murserous, Filch put the game away and pulled out a deck of Muggle cards. "Maybe I should teach you Rummy. It's easy enough to understand."  
  
Snape sighed. "Since I'm probably going to lose anyway, why not?"  
  
Filch quickly explained the rules while he shuffled and dealt the cards. Snape got the hang of it after a few rounds (despite the fact that he was losing yet again), allowing the two if them to converse about something other than the game.  
  
"I think she knows," Snape said, arranging his cards. He didn't need to say who "she" was. "She's been looking at me in a funny way lately. I tense every time she passes by, just waiting for her to screech out, 'Why do you have the Dark Mark on your arm'?"  
  
Filch shrugged. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. Potter knows, and so don't his two friends."  
  
"Yes, but Potter and his friends know how to keep their mouths shut. That's the only thing I admire about them."  
  
"Hmm, true. They're quiet about your mark as well as Black and Pettigrew." He noticed Snape's look darken. "Why is it you don't like Black?"  
  
Filch asked this question at least once every two months; Snape, getting sick of it, finally decided to answer. "I hate him because if it wasn't for his stupidity in talking Potter into making Pettigrew the Secret Keeper, Lily would still be alive." His nostrils flared. "It's something I'll never be able to forgive him for."  
  
"I see. Just like I'll never be able to forgive Lucius Malfoy for being the one to kill my sister and her husband."  
  
Everything was silent for a while. "Was Geoffrey a good Auror?" Snape asked quietly, knowing that Filch was touchy about the subject of his sister and brother-in-law.  
  
"The only Auror that topped Geoffrey Norris was Mad-Eye Moody." Filch was quiet for a bit. "I just wish I hadn't told her to stay home because I was sick. Maybe then she wouldn't have been with her husband when Malfoy and his two cronies attacked, and at least she and my nephew would still be alive."  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Nineteen  
  
Forgive me for the inconvenience, but I shall not be uploading the next two chapters tomorrow. [hides behind bulletproof glass] The reason is that my aunt is coming over and I want to be able to spend some time with her, especially considering that I haven't seen her since June. Again, forgive me. I will be sure to upload them on Monday. 


	20. Chapter Twenty

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Harry opened the book and pointed. "That's them."  
  
Fleur smiled. It was the first time she'd done so in a month. "Why, 'Arry, you look just like your pére!" She studied the picture. "I zink you 'ave your mére's eyes, zough." She ran her finger over it. "She was very pretty. What were zeir names?"  
  
"James and Lily."  
  
She giggled. "Zey look like a James and Lily." She reached into a pocket and pulled out her family photo. "Fair's fair. I saw your fameely, now you get to see mine." She handed him the photograph.  
  
They were in her classroom, sitting on her desk. Nearby, Ron was with Hermione, trying to figure out a specific spell meant to make objects explode. So far, he was failing miserably. Hermione's exasperated lecture was almost hilarious.  
  
Harry looked at the picture she handed him. "So, it was your father's mother who was the veela." She nodded. "He doesn't look as likable as your mother."  
  
"'E wasn't. 'E only 'ad eyes for 'er. 'E did not like Gabrielle and me, nor did we like 'im. I am not glad 'e died, but I am not un'appy, eizer."  
  
"I know what you mean. I think I'd feel the same way about the Dursleys." He tapped the picture. "What were their names?"  
  
"Michelle and George."  
  
Harry grinned. "She looks like a Michelle, but he looks more like a Louis."  
  
The sound of something exploding caused them to look up. Ron and Hermione were gazing at what was left of a desk, dumbstruck. Finally, Ron looked at Fleur and Harry. "Blimey, I think I've got it!"  
  
Harry snorted, then looked at Fleur. "Would you like to meet a friend of mine? Dumbledore says you can be trusted."  
  
@  
  
Fleur walked briskly down the hall to Filch's office, hoping she'd be able to catch him alone. She was in luck; he was sitting at his desk, playing Solitaire. He looked up as she entered. "Yes?"  
  
"May I 'ave the password to Snape's room?" she asked politely. "Oh, I also need to know where it is."  
  
"And what makes you think I'd tell you?"  
  
"You told 'im the password to my room."  
  
Filch seemed to be highly amused by something. "Alright, then. His bedroom is in the same corridor as this classroom, behind the portrait of Jeremy the Slimy, the man with the snake around his neck. The password is 'murderer'."  
  
She nodded. "Zank you." She left and ran to the portrait; she'd noticed it earlier in the year, simply because it looked so bizarre (it hadn't helped that the man had been kissing the snake on the mouth at the time). She spoke the password and entered. She was slightly surprised to see that the room was exactly like her own, but with a different color scheme. It helped her quite a bit, though. She walked over to the night table, opened the drawer, and pulled out the photograph.  
  
Her jaw dropped. It was Lily Potter.  
  
When Winky had said that Snape kept a picture of a woman but didn't know who it was, Fleur had immediately guessed it was the love of his life. Never in her wildest dreams, though, had she thought it would be the most unlikely woman in the world. She closed her eyes, shook her head, and looked again, just to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She was pretty sure she wasn't. The only other person in the world who had eyes like that was Harry.  
  
Hearing footsteps coming down the hall, she put the photograph back, closed the drawer, and crossed her arms, looking stern. Snape opened the door, saw her, and immediately dropped the books he was carrying as well as his jaw.  
  
"So," she said conversably. "You are probably wondering why I am 'ere. I figured zat since you knew ze password to my room, I should know ze password to yours. Zis way, if you try anyzing during ze middle of ze night, I weell be able to retaliate." With that, she swept past him. "Oh, and one more zing." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic bottle of shampoo. She tossed it onto the bed. "Wash your 'air."  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twenty 


	21. Chapter TwentyOne

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-One By Jewel Little Bird  
  
"You gave her the password to my room?" Snape shouted at Filch, who had his feet propped up on his desk, obviously pleased with himself. "Whatever possessed you to do that?!"  
  
"A number of things," the caretaker replied happily. "After all, she mentioned that you had the password to her room, so I figured it was only fair to give her yours."  
  
"I know that's not what you were thinking, and you know I know it." Snape glared at Filch. "Why did you do it?"  
  
Instead of answering, Filch got up and rubbed a spot of imaginary dirt from the top of the doorjamb. "You know," he said with an evil grin on his face, "When she came in here asking for the password, it was all I could do not to ask her if she wanted a tube of KY Jelly as well."  
  
@  
  
Five minutes later, Ginny Weasley was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, terrified out of her wits. All her brothers could get out of her was that she had seen Filch, cackling merrily and running for his life, and a murderous looking Snape, chasing after the caretaker with a pair of scissors held like a knife.  
  
@  
  
"Come to my room later tonight," the note said. "You know the password." Snape re-read it a fourth time. He know who it was from. He was beginning to wonder if Fleur would've said "sure" to the KYJelly offer. Having been with Voldemort, however, had taught him to always prepare for the worst. So, he had brought his wand with him, just in case.  
  
He stood in front of the portrait that covered the entrance to her room. It was a picture of Elena the Trampy (a brown-haired witch who was barely covered and wore too much make-up), and at the moment, she was batting her eyes flirtatiously at Steven the Straightlaced, who was giving her a look that clearly said he was disgusted.  
  
Should I go in, Snape thought, or should I go back to my room and hide beneath the bed?  
  
He sure as hell wasn't going to hide.  
  
He looked up and down the hall, making sure no one was looking, said the password, and entered quickly. It would be just his luck if someone saw him, especially if that someone turned out to be the Weasley twins.  
  
Fleur stood at one of the windows, her back to him. "I was wondairing eef you would come in," she said. "It took you long enough to make up your mind."  
  
"I have reason to be cautious, especially after the last time we had a memorable encounter."  
  
She looked at him, finally. Her face was blank, but her eyes told him that she was angry. He couldn't guess why. "Did it 'urt?"  
  
"I've had worse pain."  
  
"Did it scar?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good." She walked away from the window towards him. He moved quickly out of the way, realizing too late that she had successfully maneuvered him away from the door. She turned to face him once more. The covered mirror stood to her left. "I know what you are. Or, more precisely, were."  
  
He shrugged. "You're not the only one."  
  
"I want to know why."  
  
"Why what?"  
  
"Ze 'Eadmastair would not let you stay unless zere was a good reason for 'im to trust you. I want to know what it is."  
  
"What if I don't tell you?"  
  
She smiled nastily. Only then did he comprehend that she was playing with him. "Eef you don't say it, I weell."  
  
Just when he thought he'd had her figured out, she went and did something to change his opinion of her. At the moment, it had gone up considerably. She couldn't know; she was only trying to scare him into telling her. A cautious voice in the back of his head told him never to underestimate the enemy, but he ignored it. "I don't believe you know." He crossed his arms, smirking.  
  
"I do, but I want to 'ear it from your own mouth."  
  
"And I say again, you don't know."  
  
"What eef I told you zat 'Arry introduced me to a friend of 'is yesterday? A little, or rather large, dog by ze name of Black."  
  
His grin disappeared.  
  
"Sirius Black."  
  
He went cold. Shit, shit, shit, shit, was all he could think.  
  
"Ze 'Eadmastair said I could be trusted to know. A very interesting pet he was, too. Some breed called an Animagus?"  
  
Never, ever, ever, ever underestimate the enemy, that voice in his head said smugly. Told you so.  
  
"'E could talk, too. Told me a very good story about a rat named Peter Pettigrew, a stag named," her grin widened, "James Potter, and a very pretty little lady named Lily Potter."  
  
She did know. He prayed for the earth to swallow him up. Nothing happened.  
  
"ZIS Lily as a mattair of fact!" She whipped the cover off the Mirror of Erised, just as he noticed rather belatedly that he was standing directly in front of it.  
  
Sure enough, there was Lily. He grabbed his throat, struggling to take a breath. At the moment, he hated Fleur more than he hated James, more than even Voldemort and Black.  
  
"You went to ze 'Eadmastair because you knew Lily was in dangair," Fleur's voice continued maliciously. "You 'oped zat in doing so, you'd save 'er life, but you were too late. Sirius 'ad already talked James into making Peter ze Secret Keeper, and from zat moment on, Lily's fate was sealed. You'd always loved 'er, even zough she didn't love you, and you wanted to do anyzing you could to protect 'er.... But. You. Failed."  
  
A few years ago, Filch had let Snape look in the back of an Oxford Dictionary because there were some interesting sayings there. One of them was "Misery Loves Company." Underneath, Filch had written, "Miserable being must find more miserable beings; then, he's happy - Lady and the Tramp." Snape had thought it was dumb; it was one of those sayings that could be taken two ways: that miserable people found comfort with people who were just as miserable, or that a miserable person would make someone else miserable because it made them feel better.  
  
Forcing his eyes from the mirror, he looked at Fleur. He didn't think it was such a dumb line, now; she was unhappy, and making him feel worse made her feel better simply because it meant that he was now more miserable than she was.  
  
His eyes narrowed. Snape had once done this exact same thing to Filch; Filch had snapped him out of it by making him realize what he was doing. Time to do the same to Fleur. "I know what you see in the Mirror of Erised," he growled. "You see your mother and sister. Not your father, you didn't care much for him. I also know that you feel it's your fault that your sister was killed. If you had let her stay just a few more hours, she'd still be alive. You would've done anything to save your sister; you proved that last year during the second task. You hate yourself, though, because not only did you fail last year, you failed again... this time for real."  
  
Her smile was gone, and she'd paled considerably.  
  
"You know... the funny thing is, you're not all that different from me: both alone, both guilty of failing at our self-appointed tasks... and both wanting to blame it on someone else. The only difference is that you didn't know of the danger to Gabrielle. I knew full well the danger Lily was in, but I hesitated. The cost of that hesitation was her life. Even Potter and his friends can't say that I hesitate now. I never want to have to pay a price like that again."  
  
She shook her head. "I'm not like you...." Tears ran down her face. "I'm not! I'm not! You are a murdairer!"  
  
"I don't deny it; I was a Death Eater. You know it, though I don't know how. Why don't you blame me for what happened to Gabrielle?" His lip curled in a sneer. "Oh, wait. You've already done that, haven't you? You can't get the Death Eaters that killed her, so you're making do with hurting me. Pray tell, did it ever occur to you that I felt the way you do now when I found out what happened to Lily? I did the same thing you're doing now, only I did it to Filch. Tell me again that you're not like me. I could do with a laugh."  
  
She collapsed to the floor, weeping. "Damnez-vous! Damnez-vous! Je vous déteste! Je vous déteste!"  
  
Snape didn't need to understand French to know what she was saying. He'd said the exact same thing to Filch when the caretaker had made him realize what he was doing. He now knew that Filch must've felt sick afterward. Snape did.  
  
Miserable beings indeed; all three of them, and yes, even Winky, were miserable.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twenty-One 


	22. Chapter TwentyTwo

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Two By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur swam the length of the bathtub, humming to herself. It was more like a swimming pool. Since she had her own soap and shampoo, she'd only filled it with hot water. She stretched, and then arched her back so that her hair was submerged in the water. She straightened, reached over, grabbed her shampoo, squeezed some into her hand, and proceeded to wash her hair.  
  
Snape had been right... somewhat. She'd wanted someone other than herself to blame, and the fact that he had been a Death Eater seemed to make him a perfect target. So, she'd set out to make him hurt as much as she hurt.  
  
I am not like him, she thought stubbornly. He has murdered people. He is a cold, sadistic man. He doesn't care about anyone but himself.  
  
No, that can't be right, a voice inside her head replied. Remember last night?  
  
The Night Before:  
  
Fleur cried into her hand, feeling ten times worse than she did before. Just like this Death Eater? She couldn't be!  
  
His hands gently pulled the cloth from her limp fingers; there was a rustle as the Mirror of Erised was covered once again. Then strong arms enfolded her into a warm embrace. Not caring that it was Snape, she wrapped her arms around his neck and wept. "Je ne veux pas qu'il soit mon défaut," she sobbed, "mais elle est. J'ai eu un mauvais sentiment au sujet de rapporter Gabrielle, mais je l'ai ignoré. Je devrais avoir su mieux. Elle est morte en raison de moi."  
  
"Non," he whispered, pressing his face into her hair. "Non, ce n'est pas votre défaut. Vous n'avez eu aucune raison de la suspecter seriez tués." She couldn't help noticing that his accent was terrible.  
  
For five minutes, they sat like that, just holding each other. Slowly, her tears stopped, and she was able to think more clearly. Although pale, she noticed that Snape wasn't a weakling; she could fell the muscles in his arms as he held her. He was no muscle man, but he was fit. She lifted her head a bit.  
  
His hair wasn't greasy. It was....  
  
"You use 'air gel?!" she asked before she thought. She immediately clamped her mouth shut.  
  
He seemed more amused than angry. "Yes. I wash it on a regular basis. However, it's frizzy unless I use something to slick it down."  
  
Present Time:  
  
She allowed herself to giggle hysterically as she tried to picture him with frizzy hair. She kept picturing him with an Afro. She arched her back again to rinse her hair until it was squeaky clean. Really, Snape wasn't all that bad. Well, alright, maybe he was; he seemed to enjoy being nasty. As she straightened again, her eyes finally saw what had been standing in the doorway for the past few minutes. She froze, looking like a deer trapped in the beam of Muggle headlights.  
  
Luckily for her, so did Snape.  
  
She regained her composure first, quickly crossing her arms so that her breasts were reasonably covered. "Filch said zat none of ze teachairs bathed in zis room on Wednesday night!" she snapped angrily, aware that she was blushing.  
  
He scowled. "For your information, I bathe at 4:30 in the morning when it's guaranteed that no one will be around. However, Neville Longbottom destroyed yet another cauldron today by making it explode. After having to pick up that mess, I figured I needed to soak for about an hour before I went to bed. When I asked Filch if any of the bathing rooms would be free, he said this one was."  
  
"Maybe he forgot about me."  
  
"I doubt it. This seems like just his idea of a joke."  
  
She finally looked him up and down. She was entitled to; hell, he'd just seen every inch of her there was to see! In his arms he carried a folded nightshirt, briefs, and towled. He was wearing a black, floor-lenth bathrobe which covered everything except....  
  
Her eyes widened as her face became the same color as a ripe tomato.  
  
He looked down, then back at her. His face flushed as he lowered his burden so that his "pet" was covered. "I will return in thirty minutes," he snapped angrily. "Hopefully, you will not still be here by then. I have to go yell at Filch." With that, he turned and left, leaving Fleur to sink into the water from embarrassment.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twenty-Two 


	23. Chapter TwentyThree

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Three By Jewel Little Bird  
  
"Do you have any idea just how much I want to strangle you at the moment?" Snape growled as he paced Filch's office. Filch was setting up the Scrabble game, setting a place for a third player. Fleur would be arriving any minute now, conveniently invited by Filch.  
  
"Probably as much as I wanted to strangle you when you 'accidently' left a half-starved newborn kitten on my office desk 15 years ago," Filch replied. He grinned broadly. "If you're allowed to force something on me, why not let it go the other way around?"  
  
"If I remember correctly, you still have that cat, and Fleur is different. I sure as hell don't plan on 'keeping' her."  
  
"You never know, you might have a change of mind. I certainly did; I planned on weaning Mrs. Norris as soon as I could and giving her to someone else." Filch looked at him, his look betraying his confusion. "You know, you never told me where you got her."  
  
"Ironically, at the edge of Hogsmeade near the Shrieking Shack. Her mother was dead from lack of food. Mrs. Norris was the only kitten I saw, so I assume that she was the only offspring that resulted."  
  
Filch nodded then glared at Snape. "Stop pacing and sit down. You'll wear a hole in the floor." As the Potions Master did so, Filch pulled out the Unabridged Webster's Dictionary and dropped it on the table with a "thud." "This game should help improve her English, and I'm sure you'll feel better knowing that she'll probably be worse than you."  
  
At that moment, Fleur cautiously opened the door, peeking in. She'd been very careful around Snape ever since the bathing room incident, seeming to sense that if she mentioned it at the wrong time, he'd proceed to chase HER around the school with a pair of scissors (how the story of him chasing Filch got out was anyone's guess).  
  
"Have a seat, wh-Fleur," Filch said like a gentleman, nearly calling her "whore" but catching himself. Snape sighed; he'd rather wanted to see Fleur shred the caretaker. "We've just finished setting up the game."  
  
Ten minutes later, Filch was in first place with a lovely score of 233 and Fleur was in second place with 95. Snape had an all-time low score of 2. Fleur had learned quickly never to try and challenge any word that Filch put down. Snape wondered how long it'd be before he learned his lesson.  
  
The game was doing one good thing, though; Fleur seemed to find it highly amusing that Snape was terrible at this game. Snape couldn't help but notice that there was a big difference between her depressed and happy.  
  
Fleur, at the moment, was moving her letters around, seeming to be thinking hard. Suddenly, she beamed. "Oh!" She put down five of her letters, looking proud of herself. "'Qwerty'!"  
  
"That's not a word," Snape said, sitting up straight.  
  
She looked at it, thinking. "Oui, it is."  
  
Filch said nothing, looking at board and pretending he wasn't paying attention.  
  
"No, it is not." Snape grabbed the dictionary. "I challenge it."  
  
She shrugged, nonplussed. "Okay."  
  
"You've already lost your turn," Filch said with a grin. He'd played before Fleur. "You sure you want to lose a second one?"  
  
"'Qwerty' is not a word," Snape insisted, flipping through the dictionary. He stopped on the page he wanted. "'Quotable'," he read, his finger under each word as he said it, "'quotation', 'quote', 'quoth', 'quotidian', 'quotient', 'Qur'an', 'q.v.', and... shit." He ground his teeth. "'Qwerty'."  
  
Fleur giggled. "I told you!"  
  
"What the hell is a keyboard?" he asked, reading the definition of the word.  
  
"Somezing zat 'as to do with Muggle computers," Fleur replied happily. "I 'ave a Muggle penpal in America." She thought for a minute. "Actually, I guess you could call her a Squib since she's got a wand now."  
  
Stupid game, Snape thought to himself as Fleur counted up her points. Foiled again.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twnety-Three 


	24. Chapter TwentyFour

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Four By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Love and a cough cannot be hid. Snape seemed to be falling, though he wasn't admitting it.  
  
Fleur didn't know what to think. Her mother had once told her that men fell fast but women fell hard. If that was so, then supposedly it was only a matter of time until she fell. Still, it frightened her. Before, her world had revolved around Gabrielle, who would have always loved her, no matter what. Now, however, she was wondering if she dared to put her trust in a man who was a murderer, sadistic, and not necessarily going to love her forever.  
  
What terrified her was that she was leaning more towards doing so each day.  
  
It had been something innocently started by a flower, a Casablanca. She had found it on her desk one February morning, sitting in a little glass vase, no note. There had been, however, a little white gold ring shaped like a hawk, a tiny emerald embedded in it for an eye. It was a perfect fit for her pinky finger.  
  
There had been no doubt in her mind as to whom it was from. Her anger form terrified everyone... except Snape.  
  
After dinner that night, she'd chased after him until they were side by side, and then had slowed to a walk. He had glanced at her, but said nothing.  
  
"Did you leave somezing on my desk zis morning?" she had asked politely.  
  
"Yes."  
  
She had noticed she was going to have to drag the answer from him. "Why?"  
  
"I thought I'd let you know you have a friend who cares for you. That's all."  
  
Since then, it'd been a sort of game for one of them to outdo the other. After he left the flower and ring on her desk, she left an attractive (and rather expensive) silver quill on his. Sometimes the gifts they left for each other were friendly (a box of chocolate for her, a basket of ripe berries for him), sometimes they were cruel (he hadn't told her that the chocolates were full of pepper, so she hadn't told him she'd soaked the berries in jalapeno juice), and sometimes they were a complete joke (he'd given her a cucumber and spell for breast enhancement, so she'd left him a dildo and a potion for "performance" enhancement). It was probably the closest he could ever come to outright flirting, so she played along.  
  
Their little game wasn't exacly secret, but somehow most of the other teachers (and students for that matter) seemed to overlook it. Winky knew; she was usually the elf that both Fleur and Snape each used to leave gifts on the other's desk. There was no doubt in her mind that Filch knew; he and Snape seemed to be on "tell me all" terms for some reason. Dumbledore knew, but then he seemed to know everything.  
  
At the moment, Fleur was sitting on her bed in a blue teddy, her robes over her shoulders, staring out the window, with Gabrielle's drawing on her lap. Gabrielle had seemed to know things before anyone else did; had she known that Fleur and Snape would get along at some point?  
  
She was getting a feeling again, but this time, she didn't ignore it. Something was going to happen, she was sure of it. And once it did, she'd know whether she'd fallen hard.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twenty-Four 


	25. Chapter TwentyFive

French spoken in this chapter. Translation site I used:   
  
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Five By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Snape grabbed his left forearm and hissed in pain. "Damn!" He forgot about the essays he was supposed to be correcting and pulled his sleeve up. Sure enough, the Dark Mark was pitch black and burning furiously.  
  
He spat out a word that would've shocked Peeves speechless; Voldemort knew that Snape wouldn't be teaching classes at eight in the evening.  
  
Snape wrote a hasty note, got up, went to the door, and opened it. He saw Mrs. Norris just down the hall. He knelt down and called to her; when she was within his reach, he held out the note so that she could take it into her mouth. "Take that to Dumbledore," he told her, scratching her behind the ears. "It's important."  
  
She mewled in response, took the note, and took off.  
  
He closed the door to his office, warded it, and ran through the corridors as fast as he could, finally reaching a side door that led outside, just a couple hundred feet from the Forbidden Forest. He started towards it at a fast walk, trying to catch his breath.  
  
"Severus!"  
  
He whirled in shock. Fleur came running towards him, a robe draped haphazardly over her body; she must have started following him at some point. "Fleur! What are you doing here?" It suddenly occurred to him that she'd called him by his given name.  
  
"Where are you going?" She grabbed his left arm, right over the Dark Mark. At his hiss of pain, she grabbed his hand so he couldn't pull away and yanked up his sleeve. Her eyes narrowed. "If 'e is calling you, why are you answering?"  
  
She was a clever little girl (no, not girl, she was a woman; that was obvious to him after the bathing room incident). He clenched his teeth and forced himself to answer. "I'm a spy for Dumbledore, though Voldemort thinks I'm a spy for him."  
  
"Double agent?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
To his surprise, she became worried. "What weell 'appen to you if 'E- 'Oo-Must-Not-Be-Named finds out?"  
  
"What do you think? The same that he did to the Potters and tried to do to Harry."  
  
She gripped his shoulders tightly. "You must come back to me," she snapped, her eyes both angry and afraid. She didn't seem to realize what she had said.  
  
He looked at her. He thought she could consider his hints as a game; that she wouldn't take him seriously. Apparently, she had. "I will try."  
  
"No! No try! You will do! Promise me!"  
  
"Fleur, I - "  
  
"Promise me!"  
  
He grabbed her wrists and took her hands from his shoulders. "Fleur, I can't promise anything!" he shouted at her. "If he finds out, there's nothing I can do! I'm as good as dead! I've managed to keep myself alive so far, but if tonight's my last night alive, then I'm helpless to prevent it!"  
  
She ripped her wrists from his hands and grabbed him around the chest. "Non! Non! Je ne vous laisserai pas partir!"  
  
"Fleur, if I don't go, he'll think something is wrong and I'll not be able to get the information that Dumbledore needs!"  
  
She was crying and speaking in rapid French, probably not knowing what she was saying. "Vous ne pouvez pas aller! Vous êtes tous que j'ai! Je ne veux pas vous perdre! N'allez pas! Restez avec moi! Je t'aime! Je ne veux pas que vous mouriez! N'allez pas! Nous courrons loin ensemble! Nous irons où il ne peut pas vous suivre et nuire! Vous ne pouvez pas aller! Non! Non!"  
  
He pulled her away, grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "I. Have. To. Go! I can't run away! No matter where I go, the Dark Mark will lean him to me!" He didn't reply to her other demands, too shocked at the moment to fully take them in. "Fleur, I will try to come back, but I can't make any promises. Believe me, it kills me to say that, but it's true." He leaned in close to her. She smelled like vanilla. "The best I can do is try."  
  
She gazed at him, tears streaming from her eyes, and then slowly nodded. Without warning, she stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Je vous attendrai." She then turned and fled back into the castle.  
  
He stared after her for a moment then continued on his way to the forest. He hadn't been looking forward to this meeting to begin with, now he was looking forward to it even less. His lip curled in a sneer. If Lucious Malfoy jibed him about what he was doing before he came, Snape had an answer that would shut him up:  
  
"If you must know, Lucious, I was being seduced by one of the teachers."  
  
And he had been, too; a chance to run away and not have to worry about anything ever again.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twenty-Five 


	26. Chapter TwentySix

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Six By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur walked through the quiet halls, feeling very lonely. She knew he had to go, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She knew it was something he felt he had to do.  
  
She also knew she loved him. Being faced with the prospect of losing him had opened her eyes.  
  
"Severus," she whispered to the empty hall. She was so used to calling him "Snape" that his name felt strange coming from her mouth.  
  
"I'm sure he will come back."  
  
She whirled, her face turning red. Dumbledore smiled at her. "'Eadmastair! I...."  
  
"I know. You were planning on waiting for Severus in his room until he returned." His eyes twinkled.  
  
She was sure she was the same color as cherry. "You... you can read minds?" she squeaked.  
  
"No, I'm just very observant. Have been since I read a remarkable series of short stories about a character named Sherlock Holmes."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I have just come to warn you, dear, that being close to Severus just now would be dangerous. Because he is a double agent, that means that you would be used against him if Voldemort ever found out."  
  
She bit her lip. "I know. Eef you zink it would be best, I weell resign at ze end of ze year and move to America. I weell be safer zere." She looked him in the eyes. "Eef... eef I do, weell I be able to write to 'im?"  
  
"Yes, but it would be best if you did not tell him where you were. Severus knows the danger; he will understand if you must leave." He patted her shoulder, his eyes twinkling once more. "Enjoy the time you have left with him."  
  
She nodded, and continued on her way to Snape's room. Once inside, she sat on his bed, ready to wait the whole night if necessary.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twenty-Six 


	27. Chapter TwentySeven

Fledge keep mentioning to me that "vous" is the polite way of saying "you" in French. Just so everyone knows, my total extent of the French language is the word for apple and the "vous" thing isn't done on purpose.  
  
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Seven By Jewel Little Bird  
  
It was close to two-thirty in the morning. Snape felt ill. Voldemort had prepared for them the "entertaining" execution of Karkaroff, who had finally been caught. There was nothing worse than pretending to be enjoying oneself when one wanted to vomit until there was nothing left in the stomach.  
  
He walked through Hogwarts, heading for his room, planning on drinking a full cauldron of Dreamless Sleep just so he wouldn't spend the night trying to sleep and only succeeding in seeing Karkaroff tortured over and over again before Voldemort had finally killed him.  
  
Snape had just finished telling Dumbledore everything that had gone on at the Death Eater meeting, and truly wanted nothing else but to forget about what he had seen, if only for a few hours. Any form of distraction will be welcome, he thought. Even Fleur naked and asleep on my bed.  
  
He walked into his room and froze. Be careful what you wish for, that annoying voice in the back of his head whispered smugly. You might get it.  
  
Well, in a sense he had. Fleur WAS asleep on his bed, but it was a blooming miracle that she wasn't naked. She'd taken off her robes, revealing a very attractive blue teddy, and it appeared she had been considering removing that when she fell asleep (the straps had been slipped off).  
  
Her eyes snapped open. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Something of his night's activities must have been in his eyes, because she suddenly looked worried. She got up from the bed (her breasts barely held the teddy on), walked over to him and pulled him into her arms. He held her tightly, suddenly feeling that he needed to know he was alive. He ran his hands over her bare shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Séjour avec moi, juste pour ce soir," he whispered, knowing his accent wasn't that great but wanting to speak in her language. She allowed him to slip the teddy off. "Je veux oublier tout que j'ai vu...."  
  
@  
  
The downy feel of her soft feathers against his skin as her wings wrapped around him, the ecstasy of losing himself in her body, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure as she ripped his back with her claws and cut his neck and shoulders with her beak in the throws of passion, and the divine feeling of being able to sleep without nightmares for the first time in over a decade would be branded into his memory forever.  
  
At the moment, though, it wasn't doing Snape much good as Filch bandaged his back for him. He winced.  
  
"So, had another encounter with the whore, have we?" the caretaker asked with a chuckle. "And may I ask what you did this time?"  
  
"Asked her to stay the night then proceeded to deflower her." Snape glared over his shoulder at Filch. "And I KNOW what you're thinking, and you can stop that train of thought right now. Apparently, veela are not only capable of great anger but great sexual passion as well. It was a surprise for her, too."  
  
"Every Jack has his Jill," Filch said wisely, slathering disinfectant on a rather nasty (and painful) gash. "Seems the sadistic bastard has finally found his." He grinned. "Didn't I tell you so?"  
  
"Hello, Jill," Snape threw at Mrs. Norris, who had just entered the room. She gave him a look that clearly said she had no idea what the hell he was talking about.  
  
Filch hit Snape across the back of his head with a ruler.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twenty-Seven 


	28. Chapter TwentyEight

I was supposed to upload these two chapters yesterday, however, the Internet was going crazy last night and I couldn't. So, I'm uploading the last two chapters as well. Enjoy!  
  
French spoken in this chapter. Translation site I used:   
  
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Eight By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Fleur hated April Fools Day with a passion. She'd sent a note to Dumbledore, telling him she wasn't well and wouldn't be able to teach today. In reality, she could, but just wanted to avoid the students for a while. Dumbledore had sent a note back, clearly saying he knew she wasn't sick but allowing her the day off anyway. He seemed amused by it.  
  
Besides, the bite marks Snape had left on various parts of her body were having trouble healing, so she figured that a day of lazing about in bed would be good for them.  
  
At the moment, she was lying in bed, reading a book about that Sherlock Holmes character Dumbledore had mentioned. She could now see what the Headmaster meant about being observant. Reading about this character made her feel like she was walking around with her eyes closed. She had a stinking suspicion that Holmes' friend Dr. Watson felt the same way.  
  
The door opened, allowing Snape to enter.  
  
It had been about a week since their little "rendezvous." She was not dumb; she knew that the chances of them staying together now were not very good. However, when she had seen him that night, looking for all the world as if he had been through Hell for a tour and been promised a one-way ticket for the first row seat on the train there.  
  
It had brought to mind one of the few things her father had ever bothered to tell her. She had read a book with a scene in it she hadn't understood one bit. Her mother hadn't been home, so she'd asked her father about it instead. "Pére, je ne comprennent pas la présente partie du livre. Pourriez-vous l'expliquer à moi pour satisfaire?"  
  
He'd taken the book from her and read the chapter she pointed out. "Quelle partie ne comprenez-vous pas?"  
  
"Je ne comprends pas pourquoi il voudrait avoir le sexe après avoir vu tout ce massacre le circuler. Je veux dire, il a vu son ami obtenir tué, et la seconde où il obtient de nouveau au camp, il a le sexe avec un des filles. Ne voudrait-il pas être tout seul après la bataille?"  
  
"Reposez-vous." He'd sat back in his chair and gave her that piercing look that told her she'd better listen carefully. He'd only explained things once, and she'd known it. "Quand quelqu'un a été par une expérience traumatique, Fleur, tel que cet homme avait été à travers, ils se sentent comme s'ils sont à moitié morts. Après, ils doivent faire quelque chose de sorte qu'ils puissent être sûrs qu'ils sont vivants. Parfois ils mangent jusqu'à ce qu'ils soient malades, parfois ils font une activité qu'ils apprécient comme la natation, mais la majeure partie du temps, ils ont le sexe. Le sexe est une distraction très émotive et active. Vous ne pouvez pas avoir le sexe et vous sentir mort après. C'est pourquoi l'homme a eu le sexe; il a dû le connaître était vivant."  
  
Snape had looked as if he needed to know he was alive. So, when he had asked her to stay, she had. Sometimes, when they were alone, he held her in a way that told her he was trying to forget what he had seen, so she let him. When they were in public, though, he treated her as he did all of the other teachers: he kept his distance and ignored her. She sensed that he was trying to pretend he hadn't slept with her.  
  
"I heard you were sick," he asked her, raising an eyebrow. He frowned; his eyes had fallen upon a particularly nasty bite mark on her arm. "Did I do that?"  
  
"I am not really sick, and oui, you did." She put down the book. "What is it you are 'ere for?"  
  
He sat in the chair by her bed and took her hand in his. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, looking as if he was thinking very heavy thoughts. "Fleur, I... I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but... I...." He didn't look at her. "I'm leading a dangerous life at the moment, and if I'm not careful, it could put you in danger." His grip on her hand tightened. "I don't want to lose you, I want you to be safe... and if you stay here, then...."  
  
"I understand, Severus. You are, uh, squeezing ze blood from my 'and."  
  
He loosened his grip, but didn't let her go. Nor did she want him to. "Why did you get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job?" he asked. "You're awfully young."  
  
She grinned. "It was my major subject, and I excelled in it so much zat I was even better zan my Defense Against ze Dark Arts teacher. Ze only zing I 'ave trouble with are grindlylows; eef zere is more zan one, zen I can't 'andle zem. Besides, zey are creepy, like spiders."  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twnety-Eight 


	29. Chapter TwentyNine

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Nine By Jewel Little Bird  
  
"The end of another year," Dumbledore's speech began. Snape wasn't listening. The students would be leaving tomarrow, and Fleur would leave the day after.  
  
He wasn't very happy about it. As a matter of fact, he had been in such a rotten mood for the past three months that even the Slytherins were tiptoeing in his presence. Only when he was with Fleur did he feel peaceful, and she would not be around much longer.  
  
He looked down the table at her from the corner of his eye. How different she seemed from when she had first arrived. She had seemed to be nothing more than a child playing at being an adult. Now, he saw her as a fully grown woman (in more ways than one). Reluctantly, Snape turned his attention back to Dumbledore's speech.  
  
"... regret to inform you that Professor De'Lacour will not be returning next year...."  
  
Snape resisted the urge to groan with the rest of the male population of the school. Even Filch didn't look too happy at these words.  
  
Snape's look must've darkened considerably because several of the students that looked in his direction turned white. He took comfort in the fact that three of them were Potter, Granger, and Weasley.  
  
@  
  
"Aren't you going to tell her good-bye?" Filch asked, gently running the brush through Mrs. Norris' fur. Snape thought the cat looked like she was on the verge of having an orgasm. "You won't get another chance."  
  
Snape was pacing the length of Filche's office. It was three and a half strides long. "Filch, I can't say it. I'm afraid that if I do, I really never will see her again." He grabbed his throat, reminding himself to breathe and not to bawl. Babies bawled, not adults.  
  
"I know she'd want you to."  
  
He was trying to think of anything but her. At the moment, he was wondering why he couldn't breathe when he wept. No answer was forthcoming. "I don't want her to remember me this way."  
  
"You'd rather her remember you as a cold and sadistic bastard who screwed her without saying 'thank you'?"  
  
Snape's answer was to stalk out of the office in a huff and head towards Fleur's room. He snapped the password and entered.  
  
She was standing at her bed, folding all her clothes and putting them in a suitcase (he noticed with some surprise that most of her under things consisted of thongs and see-through bras). She looked up at him, her face betraying her misery. "I zought you would not come. You do not seem ze type."  
  
"I'm not. Filch somehow argued me into it." He looked away. "I don't want to say good-bye," he muttered.  
  
She walked over to him and gave him a hug. He returned it gratefully. "So don't. I weell be writing to you every week, zough ze 'Eadmastair says it would be best eef I did not tell you where I weell be."  
  
He tightened his arms around her. He tried to say what was on his mind, but his vocal cords refused to move for it. "Fleur... I'll never forget you," he said instead.  
  
That was lame, the voice in his head said snidely. He wished he could kill it.  
  
"And I well not forget you, Severus." She pulled away, but not before he felt something.  
  
"Fleur...." He swallowed and whispered in French, "Êtes-vous enceinte?"  
  
She looked him in the eye and slowly nodded. "Oui. Je le garderai."  
  
H took her in his arms again, suddenly feircly protective. "Fleur, after this whole mess has been resolved, I promise I will find you. Then we will finally be together."  
  
She gently kissed his neck. He wanted her to bite it. "Zen I weell wait for you."  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Twenty-Nine 


	30. Chapter Thirty

The Mirror of Erised Chapter Thirty By Jewel Little Bird  
  
Muggles were brilliant, Fleur could not deny it; creating something that could fly without the use of magic was pure genius. However, she never wanted to fly in an airplane again if she could help it.  
  
She walked into Logan airport, which was somewhere in Muggle Boston, thinking the Muggles were looking at her because she'd turned a nasty shade of green. In reality, the Muggles were amazed at the beautiful woman who made her way to the luggage claim, looking as if she were royalty.  
  
As she stood waiting for her suitcase, the person she was to meet finally made an appearance. "Fleuh! Hey, Fleuh!" A dirty-blond young woman came running up to her. "You'ah finally he'ah!" She had a Boston accent: the ability to say "ah" instead of "ar"... and then some.  
  
Fleur smiled at her. "Bonjour, Neecole. I told you we'd get to meet one day."  
  
Nicole Takewitha grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Yeah, and I remembah sayin' I didn't think we would. Yah win!" She grabbed Fleur's suitcase as it passed on the conveyer belt. "Yah can stay at my place while yah look for you'ah own. I've got some movies we can watch and I can teach yah how to play some of those video games that yah wanted to know about." She hefted the suitcase over her shoulder with ease and started off. Fleur docilly followed. "Whose the fathah?"  
  
Fleur giggled. "Is it really zat noticeable already?"  
  
"Only fah someone who is use to seeing pregnant women. Seems everyone in my family 'cept me ah breeding like rabbits. Yah get to notice it without thinkin' after a while." Nicole hooked her arm through Fleur's. "Come on, let's go to one of the restahrants and grab somethin' to eat. I'm stahved, and I'm shah that you'ah goin' to be famished."  
  
"A little."  
  
"So, whose the fathah?"  
  
Fleur's smile became wistful. "Someone I said I would wait for because I love 'im. 'E could not come because 'e 'as dangerous work to do, and I would be in danger eef I stayed. I'm going to miss 'im."  
  
"So, you'ah basically goin' to be raisin' this kid by you'ah'self?"  
  
"Oui."  
  
"If that's the case, then it's a good thin' yah came to me. I know everythin' about babies; I'm constantly babysittin' my nieces and nephews. I know the best hospitals to go to and the best thin's to do that will keep you and the baby healthy." Something seemed to occur to Nicole. "Are yah goin' to need a job?"  
  
"I do not zink so; when my pére and mére died, zey left everyzing to me in zeir will," including the guardianship of Gabrielle, Fleur added mentally, "and it is about... five million of your American dollars, I believe. I did ze calculations on ze airplane."  
  
Nicole let out a low whistle. "Thank God I'm happy bein' in the middle class," she said to herself. She gave Fleur a stern look. "Don't yah go tellin' anyone yah've got that kind of money. It could get yah killed, undahstand?"  
  
Fleur grinned. "I only look stupeed."  
  
"Good. Fahst thin's fahst: yah put that money in a bank, then...." Nicole continued on, telling Fleur all the things she needed to know about settling down in the United States.  
  
@  
  
End of Chapter Thirty 


	31. Chapter ThirtyOne

Yes, this is the last chapter. This story is complete. However, I am playing with the idea of writing a sequel, but don't hold your breath. It could take me a while to get started.  
  
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Thirty-One By Jewel Little Bird  
  
"Dear Severus,  
  
"Nicole has shown me many Muggle creations that I think you would like. There is something called a television (she calls it a TV for short) which rather makes me think of a Pensieve because of the way it works. She has something called a DVD player, which uses these very pretty and shiny discs to play pictures and sounds on the TV (she calls these things "movies"). There is a movie we saw called "Die Hard" which I think you would enjoy greatly; it's a bit violent, but not much. The man who pretends to be the evil one reminds me of you.  
  
"I went to the hospital yesterday. Nicole says it is necessary to make sure that the baby is healthy (Nicole is my pen pal friend; I think I have mentioned her before). The Muggles have the most interesting device that allows one to see what the baby looks like. I've enclosed one of the photographs the doctor gave me. She says it is too soon to know what sex the baby will be, but I can tell. It's a girl; I think I'll call her Lily. Unless you have an objection?  
  
"I miss you a lot. There are times in the night when I wake up because I reach for you and you are not there. I hope that we will be together soon.  
  
"I love you, Fleur."  
  
Snape re-read the letter over and over again. Fleur had been true to her word and written to him every week; this was the latest letter. Every time he got one, he read it and immediately sent her a reply, though he only signed it, "Severus." None of that "I love you" baloney.  
  
The students were due to arrive the next day. Another summer had dragged past. For once he was looking forward to the school year; he wanted someone to take his frustration out on in the worst way. Preferably Potter; however Weasley or Granger would do just as well.  
  
Unable to stay in his bedroom (memories of the one night he spent with Fleur kept returning), he went out into the hall and began to walk down random corridors and hallways. Before long, he found himself in front of Fleur's old room. Out of curiosity, he said the password and entered.  
  
The Mirror of Erised was still there, covered.  
  
Snape moved in front of it and stared. His hand itched to reach out and take off the covering. He debated the idea in his mind. If he saw Lily, he'd forget about Fleur, he was sure of it... but did he want that? Taking a deep breath, he reached out and pulled off the cover.  
  
There she was.  
  
She was beautiful. She smiled happily and batted her eyes playfylly. Her big blue eyes twinkled at him, and a slender hand flung some of her long blond hair over her shoulder. In her other arm was cradled the child that wouldn't know of him until the threat of Voldemort was shattered forever.  
  
It was too much. Snape sat on the bed and put his head into his hands, too miserable to even cry.  
  
@  
  
The End. 


End file.
